AVO: Scattered Memories
by dr. kitten
Summary: Once upon a time, a demon hunter who only wanted to take a bath was mercilessly attacked by the deadliest creature known to man: a girl raised in a monastery in the mountains. This is the story of how Baal and Saiya met for the first time, narrated by said unfortunate Hunter. Companion fic to Amor Vincit Omnia. Rating may rise later.
1. Chapter 1

**Amor Vincit Omnia**

 **(Love Conquers All)**

 _ **Scattered Memories**_

* * *

 **IMPORTANT: PLEASE READ! If you are thinking of diving into this story, but have not read my suuuper-long Diablo epic Amor Vincit Omnia (AVO for short) then this will make very little sense. Indulge at your own risk. For all my AVO fans, welcome! This requires some explanation. I've been wanting to post this for _ages_ , but have never gotten around to it. Basically, this is Baal's perspective on how he and Saiya met and got to know each other. I intended to cover only the important scenes, but I quickly realized that pretty much _all_ the scenes in the story are "important", so I kinda stopped. BUT ... by way of an apology for taking so long to produce new chapters for Book III, I thought that I would give you something to mull over in the meantime. **

**I don't intend to write any more on this on my own initiative, but I'm perfectly willing to update with requested scenes! So, if there's something you're dying to see from another character's POV (doesn't even have to be Baal, I'll do it for anyone...) then just say the word! My goal is to create sort of an anthology with this spin-off, so just send me reviews or messages with your requests, and I'll make it happen. :D**

 **Hope you all enjoy, and thanks for checking this out! Dr. Kitten**

* * *

A volcano was erupting in Baal's skull. Lava flowed behind his eyelids, sending up showers of dancing sparks that seared into his brain. He could not for the life of him understand the source of this profound discomfort, which was all the more worrying because it was accompanied by a loss of immediate memory. The last thing he was sure of was cresting a hill to see a lush forest sprawling ahead of him, with the lapis waters of a river snaking through the trees.

Everything after that was shrouded in fog. He thought he recalled starting the descent into the valley – nearly running in his eagerness to reach fresh water – and once he had gotten there, tossing his pack aside and shucking off his clothes. And then? He had no idea.

Well, he could probably piece it together, based on what his senses could tell him about his current whereabouts. He was lying on his back, with a large piece of slightly scratchy cloth over him. He was still naked. And there was a source of heat near his head.

Baal rolled onto his side with some difficulty and opened his eyes, blinking as firelight seared his vision. He could see someone's personal belongings out of the corner of his eye: a bedroll, a small cooking pot hung over the flames, and a worn rucksack. He could hear water, so he wasn't far from the river.

It was all starting to come together now. After undressing, he had chosen a pleasant spot on the river and jumped in, intending to freshen up with a swim. And when he had surfaced, _someone_ had been waiting for him and had bashed him over the head with a rock. Obviously the blow had knocked him unconscious, and presumably, the mystery assailant had then dragged him from the water. But for what purpose?

There was a small sound from the space behind him, and he knew without having to look that his attacker was sitting there, trying not to be heard. Baal's eyes narrowed as his aggressive instincts kicked into gear. He was not armed, and assuming his opponent was, he would stand no chance if he tried to get a weapon. He would have to make do with his bare hands and use speed to his advantage.

Gathering his strength, he rolled over and lurched from beneath the blanket, tackling his enemy bodily. Surprised, the other fell back with little resistance, and Baal lost no time in getting a hand around his throat. His keen gaze took in details in rapid-fire succession: skinny, very young, short white-blonde hair, pale blue eyes wide with alarm. A pretty lad. The very picture of innocence, in fact, but the Hunter would not let that sway him.

"Who the hell are you?" he snarled.

The boy fought for air, pale skin beginning to turn purple. He managed to gasp out, "Not - your - enemy!" Baal's steely grip faltered slightly.

The voice was unmistakably feminine.

"A woman?" he murmured. Then her words registered, and he said, "If you're not an enemy, why did you attack me?"

"You - startled - me … I was medi - tating under - the waterfall … could you - let me _go -_ please? Can't - breathe …"

Baal frowned, resisting his initial impulse to release her. It _could_ be the truth, but it could just as easily be a deception to get him to drop his guard. Although for the life of him he couldn't imagine a plan that would require his opponent to knock him out, drag him from the water, and generously wait for him to awaken before attacking him.

He unclenched his hand, noting the relief that flooded her features, and withdrew a few feet, still crouched tensely in case she tried anything. The girl's eyes flashed to his nakedness and color suffused her cheeks. She lowered her gaze.

"So I startled you," Baal said after a moment of awkward silence. "You were swimming in the river and I jumped down on you out of nowhere. I can see how knocking me out was a reasonable reaction, but still … you could have killed me."

"I didn't know what you were," the girl protested. "Once I realized you were human, I pulled you out."

"Oh, I see!" he said mockingly. "So you're both my attempted murderer _and_ my savior."

She scowled at him, and he couldn't contain a chuckle. A stray thought drifted through his mind: she was cute when she was indignant, like a kitten with its fur fluffed up.

"I think we may have started off on the wrong foot," he said. "I scared you, and you clocked me on the head with a _boulder_ , judging by the ache in my skull."

"You should be glad that I was only holding a rock," she shot back. "Normally I prefer brass knuckles."

He flinched involuntarily and touched the sore spot on his scalp. There was a sizeable knot, but he couldn't feel any blood.

"My name is Saiya," the girl continued. "I am a stranger in these parts. I come from the mountains to the west, in Ivgorod."

"They call me Baal," the Hunter replied. "Short for Baalzibal. I don't belong here either, but I hail from the opposite direction." He extended his hand, but the girl did not reach out to take it. At first he thought her reluctance stemmed from mere discomfort, but then he saw the flicker of suspicion in her long-lashed eyes.

"Baal," she said. "Isn't that the name of a-"

He cut her off. "Demon, yes. It's a long story. You needn't look at me like I'm going to sprout wings and bite your head off. I'm as human as you are." Suddenly impatient, he got to his feet. The girl's hands flew to cover her eyes.

"Is that so?" she said in a choked voice. "Is it your habit to run around the woods in the middle of the night without any, ah, _clothes_? Because no self-respecting humans that _I_ know behave so indecently."

Baal snickered at her naiveté. "What, girl, were you raised in a monastery?"

"Actually, yes, I was."

He blinked. "Really?"

Her fingers parted to revealed a glaring eye, then snapped closed again.

"Would you _please_ wrap yourself in a blanket or something?" she pleaded. Baal rolled his eyes and grabbed the quilt that he had been covered with, wrapping it around his shoulders. It was long enough to reach his knees.

"There," he said. "It's alright, you can look now. I won't offend your sensitive eyes."

She dropped her hands cautiously, as though she expected him to be lying just so he could expose himself to her. When she saw that he was modest again, her shoulders heaved in a sigh of relief. _Silly girl, it's like she's never seen a man before._

He could not resist needling her by remarking, "You _are_ just a child, albeit a lanky, overgrown one."

"I'm twenty-one!" she snapped, red-faced.

Baal grinned. "Oh! A real grown-up lady!"

After a moment, the anger faded from her face, to be replaced with a cunning smile. Her teeth were small and slightly crooked, the left incisor overlapping the right by a tiny margin.

"And I suppose you're in your middle years already, good sir," the girl said, a teasing quality in her tone. "You seem so very _learned_ in the ways of the world. You must be at least forty."

"I'm a good deal more learned than you, anyway," he retorted without heat. "I'm not the one hiding my eyes like a proper little maiden."

"It's called 'modesty'," she growled. "You might want to learn some … unless you find it a thrill to flaunt your masculinity to maidens."

The Hunter nearly burst into a full laugh, but restrained himself just in time. It would be unkind to make fun of her innocence. He said, "You might be surprised to learn that most of the time I am extremely modest and polite, especially in the company of the fairer sex. You happened to catch me at a bad moment. You see, I've been on the road all day and when I saw the river, I thought I would take the chance to bathe a bit, _privately,_ in my own company. I was not expecting any maidens, let alone one with fists so fierce."

The girl blushed again. She seemed prone to doing that. "Well," she mumbled, "I _was_ trained by warrior monks. But I suppose I'll forgive you for your rude behavior if you'll forgive me for almost drowning you."

"It's a deal," he agreed. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to borrow your blanket for a few minutes while ford the river again. I left all my belongings on the other side … among them the clothes that I would normally be wearing right now. I'll bring your blanket back when I am 'decent'."

She nodded. "Alright."

Baal scrutinized her for a few seconds to make sure that she was genuinely okay with it – after all, he could easily walk off with her valuable source of warmth and keep it for himself, if he was so minded – but there was nothing in her eyes but a trust that he found unexpectedly charming. It was rare these days, he thought, to meet someone whose expectations of common goodness were not ruined by knowledge of the world.

 _It's a good thing I'm the one who ran across her,_ whispered the darker part of his mind, _and not some rapist bandit – or worse, a demon. A girl like this is easy prey._

She was beginning to look at him oddly now, and Baal realized that he was staring. He turned on his heel and marched off into the darkened woods.

Fortunately, he had no difficulty in finding the place where he had left his gear, although that necessitated fording the river again. He dressed hurriedly, shivering in the chill air, and paused for a moment to deliberate before grabbing his pack and crossbows. The girl had a camp set up already; provided she was willing to let him stay, it would be foolish to make another one here … not to mention that it would mean wading through that frigid water twice more instead of once.

She jumped when he stepped out of the bushes and into the glow cast by her fire. Baal couldn't hold back a smug grin as he tossed her blanket on top of her bedroll. Despite her air of confidence, she did not have much experience with the wilds.

"Why have you come here, to this land?" she asked. It seemed more like polite conversation than real prying, and Baal impulsively decided to answer with the truth.

"I hunt the one I am named for, along with all of his brethren."

The girl looked thoughtful. "You fight against evil?"

"Yes."

She murmured something under her breath that he doubted she meant for him to hear, but his keen ears picked the words out perfectly: "Dwell in the darkness to fight the darkness."

 _Perceptive,_ he thought. Keeping his voice light, he asked, "What of you, then? What is the quest of the Warrior Maiden?"

"I have no quest," she answered. "My teachers would have me learn the realities of life and hone my skill on enemies in the outside world, instead of the practice dummies in the monastery."

Baal hummed with mild interest. "So you really were raised by monks? I thought you were joking."

"I never knew my parents," she said. "I was abandoned at the doors of the monastery when I was a wee babe just hours old."

 _How can she say that so calmly?_ he wondered. _As if it doesn't matter to her at all!_

"Doesn't that make you angry?" he asked.

She looked surprised. "What?"

"Your parents. Abandoning you. What kind of people would leave an infant to fend for itself?"

"They didn't leave to me fend for myself," the girl retorted angrily, her cheeks flushing pink. "They left me at the monastery, where they knew I would be reared well and loved dearly. I'm sure that if they had been able to they would have raised me themselves."

Baal snorted in disbelief. "Sounds like an excuse to me."

She was silent for a moment, and he felt a twinge of regret for having antagonized her, the first human he'd encountered in over a month that hadn't been trying to kill him. He was on the verge of apologizing when she let out a long breath and said, "Believe what you will; I have chosen to make my peace with my parents' decision. I hope that someday I will meet them … and when I do, I will greet them joyfully."

Baal nodded. It was foolish idealism, of course, but somehow more tolerable coming from her.

"Where are you headed?" the girl asked after another awkward pause.

Once again, the Hunter saw no need to lie. "New Tristram. A town further up the river. There are rumors of demon attacks in the area after a falling star destroyed a cathedral and woke the dead."

"Is New Tristram the nearest settlement?" she said. "I need to restock my supplies and do some repairs."

"There's Wortham this side of the river," he replied, "but it's only a fishing village. If you have any serious business, you'll need to press on to New Tristram. The ferry can take you across."

She pursed her full lips into an appealing pucker. "Then it looks like we'll be traveling in the same direction. Perhaps we should stick together until we reach the town. If there truly are demons in the area, we'll be safer in each other's company."

"I can handle myself," Baal said automatically. Then his mind drifted back to his earlier thoughts of the girl's vulnerability. He had never been to New Tristram before, and couldn't speak for the morality of the locals. If it was anything like some of the other rural towns he'd visited, a naïve girl like her would be ill advised to travel alone.

"You might have some problems, though," he said. "I suppose we can join forces, for now. Just don't slow me down. I break camp at dawn and travel until dark. And if we encounter any demons along the way, even if they're off the beaten path, I'll take my time to exterminate them. Leave even one of those bastards alive and they'll breed more."

"That suits me," she agreed. "How far to New Tristram?"

"Three days, at my pace." _Will she be able to keep up? She's tall for a girl. Long legs. I bet she can walk quickly if she needs to … but what if she gets tired out? If she lags behind, do I leave her, or waste time dawdling so she can keep up?_

The girl appeared to have no such reservations, however. Clapping her hands together in a businesslike gesture, she said, "Well then, if we're to start early I want to get some sleep. There's leftovers from my dinner in the pot over the fire. It's simple food, but nourishing. You might as well eat."

Caught off guard by her guileless generosity, Baal was momentarily stunned. He pulled himself together in time to say, "Thank you. I will." As his new companion headed down to the water's edge to prepare for bed, he settled himself beside the crackling fire and dug in with enthusiasm – although the first bite had him wondering whether her motivation was kind or malicious.

"'Simple' is an understatement," he muttered, shoving another tasteless spoonful in his mouth. "I might as well be eating sand. One thing's for sure: if we _are_ going to travel together, _I'll_ be doing the cooking."

* * *

She had been gone too long. Baal wasn't _worried,_ certainly not, but he was beginning to get … concerned. Most probably the girl was off washing her hair or some other feminine thing, but all the same he couldn't ignore the warning voice at the back of his mind that screeched, _"Danger! Danger!"_ in a discordant tone.

At last, praying that he would not catch her nude and embarrass them both, he got up, grabbed his favorite crossbow, and trudged off in the direction of the river. As he drew closer, a rancid smell reached his nose and he quickened his pace, suddenly on the alert.

Saiya was in the shallows, crouched defensively with her eyes fixed on a hulking shape on the bank. Baal had no time to appraise the situation, however, for the shape gathered itself and sprang, teeth snapping at her throat. The Hunter was forced to fire without sighting first (fortunately, he had the weapon cocked already) but his aim was true and his bolt pierced the creature's chest mid-flight and sent it spinning to the side. It landed clumsily in the water, generating a spray of water that further drenched Saiya's already sopping clothes and hair.

Baal was prepared to shoot again and finish the deed, but it proved unnecessary. His companion pried a gnarled branch from the mud of the bank and clubbed the beast over the head until it ceased to move. A wavering white shape – the malignant spirit that had corrupted the poor animal – streamed from the corpse and flew at Saiya, screaming vengeance, but was stymied by the remnants of the mantra that clung about her like a tattered cloak of sunlight. It fled into the night to seek another victim.

The Hunter held out a hand to help the girl up on the bank, and then waded into the shallows and lifted the beast's head by the scruff under its chin.

"Definitely a demonic influence," he said. "This was once a wolf, but it was possessed by an evil spirit and became _this._ "

"Thank you," said Saiya. "You probably saved my life just now."

"This was why we're traveling together, right?" Baal said, with a casual shrug. "I was only doing my job."

"I'm going to pretend you just said, 'you're welcome'," she replied saucily.

Baal rolled his eyes. He had to admit that he was impressed by her courage and willingness to get her hands dirty, but that didn't change the fact that her carelessness had nearly cost her her life. "Would you please do me a favor, and bring your weapons along next time you wander away from camp in the middle of the night?" he said gruffly. "I might not always be around to come to your rescue, and this is a dangerous part of the world. Clearly the rumors were true."

The girl ignored the disapproval in his tone. "Do you think this was caused by the falling star?" she asked.

"It's possible," he said. "Who knows what the thing _really_ was. A star, a meteor … perhaps even some being."

Her eyes widened. "But what could survive a fall like that?"

"No idea. Here, help me pull this corpse out of the river. No sense in tainting the water."

Together, they hauled the wolf's carcass up onto the bank, where they covered it with leaves and rocks, trusting nature to handle the process of decomposition. Saiya climbed into her bedroll as soon as they reached their camp, her movements slow and stiff. Baal eyed her surreptitiously to see if she'd been wounded, but she merely seemed worn out.

"Night, Baal," she mumbled, face turned into her pillow.

He smiled, feeling his heart light up a bit with simple pleasure. It had been a long time – years, in fact – since anyone had bid him 'good night'. Vera certainly wasn't one for such pleasantries, even when she _was_ sharing his bed.

The thought of her soured the air in his lungs. _Even when she's nowhere near me, her mere existence is a thorn in my heart._ His skin crawled with the memory of her red-painted talons raking across his back while she hissed hatred into his ear.

Then he glanced down at the sleeping girl only a few feet away. Her face was almost luminous in the darkness, her lips slightly parted and a thin trickle of drool starting to run from the corner of her mouth. His smile returned. There was a tender element in it that took him by surprise. It was then that he realized that he _liked_ his new traveling companion.

"Good night, Saiya," he said, and closed his eyes.

* * *

The streets were poorly lit, and the shadows of New Tristram's ramshackle houses swallowed Baal up until only his eyes were visible, glowing like disembodied coals. They floated along, unblinking, as he followed Saiya with stealthy footsteps. He was confident that she hadn't noticed him, so intent was she on reaching Captain Rumford's house.

He intercepted her just as she was reaching for the door knocker, enjoying the startled look in her eyes – but not the swift, unspoken accusation that followed. He wasn't sure what he'd done to make her so angry, but he intended to see it right.

"I want to speak with you," he said.

"What is it?" Her tone was brusque, and Baal knew at once that this might take some time.

"Not here," he murmured. "Walk with me."

"If I must," she said grudgingly. But when they reached the town gates, she stopped and would go no farther.

"There is no danger," Baal assured her. "Trust me – my nose is very keen. There are no demons within miles of this place. We chased them all away."

Saiya groaned. "Fine. But if we run into trouble, I'm leaving you behind. I've had enough fighting for one day."

His mind instantly flashed back to how she had looked when he'd found her in the mist: blood on her robe and in her hair, exhausted beyond human comprehension yet still triumphant. He said, "Fair enough."

As they strolled down the dappled path between the trees, Baal debated how to start the conversation. He received no help from Saiya, who seemed determined to hold her tongue and keep her thoughts to herself. He thought of asking straight out what he had done wrong, but decided that a more subtle approach was warranted.

"You seem to have found a niche for yourself here in New Tristram," he remarked after a while.

Saiya shrugged. "It's just temporary work. I don't intend to stay."

Baal furrowed his brow, considering his next move, but she beat him to it.

"What about you? You're setting yourself up to be the new hero of the town. Better watch out … keep going the way you are, and they'll promote you to mayor." She was mocking him, but there was no cruelty behind it.

Baal said, "Well, I'd be an upgrade from Old Lardbelly, I think," and was rewarded by a brief giggle.

"But I don't intend to stay long either," he added thoughtfully. "Let someone else be the Hero of New Tristram. I'm no champion. I'll stay until the demon uprising is quelled, and then I'm off again. As long as the minions of hell survive on this earth, I will never be able to rest."

He felt rather than saw something change in her demeanor. A relaxation, an easing of tension. After a quiet interlude, she said, "Did you find the star?"

Baal shook his head. "The pit it smashed was deep, far deeper than I ventured. I stopped when I found the old man. I would have liked to keep going, but I promised Leah that I would bring him back."

"You like her, don't you?" Saiya asked, taking him by surprise.

"Who, Leah? I suppose. She's a likeable girl, isn't she? Very pretty."

Saiya's face was only partially visible in the dim light, but Baal did not miss the odd expression that passed across it, as though she had bitten down on a slice of lemon. "Yes," she replied indistinctly. "She is."

 _What's this?_ Baal wondered. _It seems that the virtuous little monk is as susceptible to jealousy as any proper girl._ It was amusing, somehow, to know that she was only human. Rather endearing as well, if he was honest.

"She smells strange, though," he said.

"What?" Saiya mumbled. Clearly her thoughts were elsewhere.

"There's a strange smell about her," said Baal. "She's not a normal human, I would stake my reputation on it."

"Do you mean Leah?"

"No, I mean Mary Belle, the grocer's wife. Of course I mean Leah. What other person are we talking about?"

Saiya scowled at him. "What does she smell like?"

"She smells … old." She laughed, and he said, "No, not like that. Not like an old person. She smells like old paper, or a house that's been abandoned for many years. Ugh, I'm not putting this into words very well. It's old magic, alright? It smells like musty corpses and dried blood and tombs that have been buried under the desert sands for millennia. Ancient and not of this world."

She looked even more baffled than before. "I'm not following you at all. Are you saying that Leah is an ancient being or something?"

"No, _she's_ a young girl. But there's something else there too, an old power, older than a bones of the world, and it makes me uncomfortable. I feel like I must be on my guard around her always."

Saiya nodded slowly. The sourness was gone now, though Baal was unsure if _he_ had caused it to dissipate, or if she had simply worked through whatever was bothering her. "So what is the next thing for you?" she asked. "Are you going to go back and search for the star again?"

He nodded. "Yes, I intend to, but I fear it will not be as simple as I first imagined. There is a strong demonic presence lurking in the bowels of the cathedral, far stronger than anything I have ever encountered. I saw it for a moment – just one brief glimpse! – but that was enough to make my blood run cold." He suppressed a shiver at the memory of a skeletal face wreathed in blue fire. "I shall have to ask around New Tristram to see if anyone knows the nature of this demon, and how I might be able to defeat it."

"I'll help you," Saiya said without hesitation.

"It'll be dangerous," Baal warned.

She snorted derisively. "Do you think I've spent the last few days playing with children? You've seen me fight. Besides, if this demon is as strong as you say, you'll need my help."

"Alright, then," he said. "Suit yourself." _And if you get yourself killed, it won't be_ my _fault._

Saiya wheeled around to face him, drawing herself up to her maximum height and looking him right in the eye. "I have some conditions if we're going to be working together," she said.

Baal waited silently for her to state them.

"First-" She held up her forefinger. "-you won't go running off on your own again without even a word of notice."

"Ah!" he said, thinking, _at last we come to the root of the problem._ "That's why you treated me so frostily when I returned. I knew you were angry about something."

She managed to frown and look vaguely embarrassed simultaneously. "Well, I was a little taken aback. I mean, we'd been traveling together for days and we'd come to rely on each other to some degree, plus we were sharing a room … and also, we had the added bond of being previously acquainted in a town where we were both complete strangers. It was kind of rude of you to just ditch me."

 _Rude?_ He fought the urge to smile, as he always did when she scolded him. Instead he spread his hands and said, "I had business."

"Was it so important that you couldn't have waited even an hour for me to wake up?" she snapped. "Or at the _very_ least, leave me a note? I had no idea where you'd gone, or when you'd be back! I was actually worried about you, Baal!"

Her tone was rising, startling a bird in the bushes. Baal took a step away, too shocked to reply. She had been _worried?_ About _him?_ A man she hardly knew, and couldn't possibly have formed any attachment to in so short a time. His first instinct was to make a snide remark, perhaps mock her a little to alleviate the tension, but the glint of tears in her eyes caused the words to fail on his tongue. She was crying, or trying not to, and he was the one who had made her cry. Shit.

The sound of his own voice made him realize that he'd sworn aloud. He said, "I never thought that you'd care one way or the other where I was."

Saiya blinked. "You … didn't think … I cared?"

"No; why would you?"

"I just do," she said, sounding small and unsure of herself. "I think of you as a friend. I mean, I don't know you very well, but I certainly don't want you to _die_!"

"Oh," was all that he could think of to say. After a moment, he added, "Sorry." It was a lame apology, he knew, but it seemed like the only thing to do. It seemed to be what she'd wanted as well, for she said, "It's … alright. It's fine. Not really your fault at all. I know you're not used to having to account for yourself to anyone. Just … please, next time, let me know? Okay?"

"Sure," he agreed, relieved that she was letting him off so easy. "What are your other conditions?"

"You won't try to coddle me or protect me from danger."

Well, _that_ was unacceptable. He'd had to rescue her once already. "I reserve the right to save your life if I can."

"Provided that the act of doing so doesn't endanger your own," she insisted.

"Agreed."

"Good."

"What else?"

"Um … we'll get equal share of any profits gained from our adventure."

"Fine."

"Aaaand … oh, you have to tell me what's going on in your mind."

Baal raised an eyebrow. That had sounded almost … suggestive. Had she intended to imply …? No, by the color staining her cheeks, she had meant it innocently.

"What?" he said, just to clarify.

"What I mean is," Saiya spluttered, "if you think a we're walking into a trap or someone can't be trusted, then you have to tell me so. Even if I don't agree with you, I want your opinion. I'll also share mine with you. It's part of what having a good partnership means."

"Is that what this is?" he asked, pointing to the empty space between them.

"Yep," she said brightly. "If we're working together, then we're partners. So do you agree to give me your honest opinion on anything pertaining to our shared work?"

"I do."

"Good. Um … I think that's all, unless you can think of anything."

"Nope."

She held out her hand, and he took it in his own. It was larger than he had expected, the fingers long and agile, the palms heavily callused. A fighter's hands. She gave him a firm squeeze and let him go again, and his palm felt suddenly cold in her absence.

 _Partner,_ he thought, trying out the unfamiliar concept in his mind, turning it over and examining every facet for flaws. _For better or worse, I'm not alone anymore._


	2. Chapter 2

**The scene in which Baal and Saiya kiss for the first time (sort of!) - from Baal's point of view. Needless to say, these little shorts will not be in any particular order, except the order that they were requested in. Enjoy! And please keep your requests coming! This is good for my muse. :)**

 **Memory Two: On the Docks at Midnight (from Book One, Ch. 20)**

Baal shifted his weight from one leg to the other, scratching an itch on his ankle with the sole of the opposite boot. He had been waiting for hours now for Saiya to return from the other side of the river, and he was beginning to worry that she wasn't going to.

 _Because you were an asshole to her, that's why. You'll be lucky if she ever talks to you again._

He shook his head, trying to dispel the fear that he might have ruined the only friendship he had. He hadn't meant to say all those things, they just … came out. Seeing the stupid mage on top of her, the way _he_ had dreamed of for days, something had just snapped in his mind. He had lashed out at her, like Marion all over again. Only she wasn't his to claim, and all he'd managed to do was hurt and embarrass her. Gods, what a mess.

The sound of oars splashing heavily through the water caught his attention, and he tensed in expectation. A lantern appeared between the tree trunks, bobbing up and down with the motion of the ferry. By its orange glow, he could make out the back of Kormac's head, and a cluster of other shapes. And there in the back, wedged in between a fat man and Brother Malachi's assistant, was his little monk.

She looked tired, exhausted actually, but there was a smile on her face as she responded to someone's comment. Something eased in his chest at the sight. At least her day had been good, then. Probably better than his.

The boat jolted against the dock, and Kormac jumped out first, nearly overturning it in the process. Saiya didn't even look in Baal's direction as she stepped up onto the dock. His heart plummeted before it occurred to him that perhaps she hadn't noticed him. It was dark, after all, and just because he had excellent night vision didn't mean that everyone else did.

He was proven correct when he stepped forward, and she jumped in surprise before saying his name in far too calm a tone. The Hunter tried not to sound too desperate as he replied, "Hey, Saiya. Can I have a moment?"

She crossed her arms. "Depends on what you want to say."

 _Okay, so she hasn't forgiven me yet. At least she didn't tell me to fuck off …_

"Hallo, Brother!" Kormac shouted. Neither of them turned to look at him. "Uh oh. Have you two been fighting again?"

"More or less," said Saiya, sounding rather irritated. "Kormac, you and the others can go on ahead. I'll join you in a minute."

"Whatever you say, _Schwesterchen,_ " he said, and gestured to the others. "Come on, fellows. I think we've earned a nice cold pint or two. I'll buy." As he passed Saiya, he gave her a pat on the shoulder. Baal couldn't help wondering how much she had told him about their earlier fight.

They were alone now, and she was staring at him with an expectant look on her face while he struggled to find the right words. Should he launch right into an abject apology? Try to play it casual? At last, realizing that _anything_ was better than just standing there like a dumbass, he offered her the bottle of alcohol he'd purchased earlier.

"I got this for you."

She accepted it rather cautiously, but her expression changed the moment she peeled back the cloth and saw the seal on the cap.

"This was made in Ivgorod," she murmured.

"It's honey mead," he said. "I thought you might enjoy it."

She looked up at him with shining eyes. "Thank you. Really. I mean it. It was a nice thought."

His pulse spiked. With an effort, he ignored the urge to pull her in and kiss her until she couldn't stand. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he muttered, "Yeah, well … I wanted to apologize to you. My behavior this morning was totally out of line, and I'm really sorry. It's true that I was motivated chiefly by concern for you, but that didn't give me the right to say what I did, or to interfere in your personal business. I give you my word that it will never happen again, and I hope you can forgive me."

"I'm sorry too," Saiya said regretfully. "I said some unkind things that I didn't really mean."

Baal grinned, feeling absurdly pleased with himself for fixing things. "That's alright, I deserved it. So, are we friends again?"

Saiya glanced down at the bottle, pulled the cork, and took a long swig, then a second one. To judge by the look on her face, she liked it. She offered him some, which he supposed was a good sign. He could taste her on the lip of the jug.

 _Gods, I'm pathetic, pining after this woman like a lovesick puppy. What the hell is wrong with me?_

Saiya sat down on the edge of the pier. He accepted her unspoken invitation, taking another gulp of mead before passing the bottle back. There was enough in there to get both of them reasonably drunk if they finished it. He wondered what she'd be like under the influence. Adorable, probably.

After a while, wanting to keep talking if just to hear her lovely voice, he asked, "How's your friend Pip doing?"

Saiya's expression darkened. "Gods' will that he live."

"I realized after you left that I had forgotten to tell you the news. Sorry."

"That's okay," she said. "I ran into Aidel not long after that. I've been across the river all day, keeping an eye on the children."

"I know," he admitted. "I'd been waiting for you to return. I was beginning to think you weren't coming back."

"How long were you there?" she asked.

He shrugged, feigning a casual attitude, as if he'd had nothing better to do with his day – though frankly, he couldn't really think of anything more important than mending fences with Saiya. "Oh, I don't know. Since just after noon, probably. I lost track of time." She raised an eyebrow, and he quickly added, "I didn't want to miss my chance."

For some reason, she seemed pleased with that response, humming a little to herself as she lifted the jug again. A tiny bit of the liquid within escaped from her mouth and trickled down her chin, but she didn't appear to notice.

"By the way," Baal continued, "if you haven't heard already, they're planning to hold a funeral tomorrow evening for those who died at Wortham, with a special focus on Captain Rumford and Deckard, in light of their heroism." He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed, torn between the desire to her with him and the desire to keep her safe. "The following morning, I'm leaving on my witch hunt. I would have gone sooner, but I wanted to give you a chance to recover your strength … assuming that you would still like to accompany me."

Saiya lifted her chin. "Try to stop me!"

 _Somehow I knew she'd say that. My girl is nothing if not a badass._

"I wanted to invite Ghor as well. Is that alright with you?"

"Yes, of course. What about Caesar?"

Well, shit. Talk about ruining the fucking mood. He could feel himself grimacing, but he tried to keep his voice even as he said, "His wand is broken, remember? Without the use of his magic, he'd just be a burden." _And that's putting it very,_ very _mildly._

"That's not true," Saiya argued, oblivious to his displeasure. "Caesar can still cast spells even without his wand. He's an, um … an ice mage, so he can, you know, freeze things. He froze me to the bed this morning." She giggled, and he had to remind herself that she was only talking like this because she was tipsy. He was pretty sure she hadn't slept with the bastard … yet.

"Even so," he groaned, "you know I don't like working with him, Saiya."

"You've never tried," she said. Her eyes were a bit unfocused as she looked at him. He confiscated the bottle, judging that she'd probably had more than enough.

"I don't much want to," he grumbled under his breath, and went to drink some more. It was empty. When the hell had _that_ happened? Scowling, he chucked the jug into the river with a very satisfying splash.

Saiya gasped, and he jerked his head round to look at her, concerned that she may have hurt herself somehow. But she was staring at the bottle as it floated away.

"That's bad!" she exclaimed. "You shouldn't do that, it's littering."

"Too late now," he said.

"Serioushly, Baal! I'm going to report you for that." She was completely in earnest, which made her slight slur even more hilarious. He chuckled aloud.

"To who?"

She had to think about that. "To … uh … to Captain Aidel."

Baal leaned towards her, but misjudged the distance and ended up almost bumping his nose against hers. "Oh yeah?" he growled playfully. "What's he going to do, arrest me?"

"You're drunk!" Saiya said.

"So are you."

"I am _not_! See?" She hopped upright, only to topple headlong into the water with an undignified shriek. She surfaced within a few seconds, thrashing her arms and legs to keep afloat and looking generally like a drowned rat. Baal couldn't help himself: he began to laugh, and once he started, he couldn't stop. He laughed until his sides ached and breathing was a struggle.

Blinking away tears, he looked down to see Saiya glaring up at him. "Don't just sit there chortling!" she snapped. "Help me out!"

He rolled his eyes. "Let me guess – you were just trying to get the bottle back." But then, taking pity on her, he braced himself against the nearby lamp-post and leaned perilously out over the river to grasp her hand. Pulling her up was more difficult than he'd expected it to be; his wounded shoulder gave a sharp twinge and he had to grab her waist to keep her from slipping back into the water. She helped him out by putting her arms around his neck, which brought their faces much closer together than he had anticipated. He made the mistake of looking into her eyes, ice blue and silver blended in the most beautiful color he'd ever seen, and he was lost. Before he knew what he was doing, he had closed the remaining gap between them and kissed her.

Her lips were chapped, and sweet with honey mead, and cool from the water that had come down from the mountains. They felt perfect against his, just like he'd imagined they would, and … and she was not reciprocating. She wasn't even making a sound. His brain finally caught up to his body, and he jerked backwards, somehow managing to drag her up with him onto the pier. She knelt there in total silence. He felt his face burn.

 _What the fuck have I done? She didn't ask for that, she gave no sign that she liked it, she's probably trying to figure out how to nicely tell me that she's in love with the fucking mage and to please not bother her anymore!_

"What was that for?" Saiya asked, her voice small. He cringed.

"Please, just forget that ever happened. I don't know what I was thinking … I just … acted on impulse, I guess. I'm sorry." He bolted to his feet, trying to suppress a sudden rush of nausea. "We should probably head back to town. It's getting late."

He thought she'd said something in reply, but in his haste to escape, he didn't hear it. His stomach felt like a pit of snakes, and his head was buzzing unpleasantly. All he could think about was how still she'd been as he … gods, he'd practically forced himself on her, kissing her like that when she'd had no way to get away from him. What a wonderful friend he'd turned out to be. A real winner.

Saiya said nothing as the soldier on duty opened the gate wide enough for them to slip through. Her dip in the river, combined with his untoward advances, seemed to have sobered her up a little. She regarded him a bit anxiously, and he clenched his fists to stop himself from dropping to his knees and begging for her forgiveness right there in the street.

"Where are you going to stay for the night?" he asked gruffly.

"The infirmary, I suppose, if there's still a bed available," she replied.

 _Oh, of course. Where Caesar is. I might have expected that. Fuck my life._

"What about you?"

Amazingly, he managed to keep his tone relatively normal as he said, "I'm currently staying at the guard barracks. Leah offered to let me have the spare room at her house, but death's presence is too strong there still for me to feel comfortable."

She said nothing. Why should she? With a sigh, he said, "Well, I'll see you in the morning, then."

"Um … okay. Good night."

"Night, Saiya." He turned and left before he could fuck up any more than he already had. As soon as he was safely out of her sight, he stopped and hit the wall as hard as he could. The pain of his split knuckles did absolutely nothing to banish the memory of her mouth against his.

There was no way he was getting any sleep tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**I got several requests for this one: the fight with the Butcher! Enjoy! And just a reminder, requests give me inspiration! I'll consider doing 'missing scenes' as well, such as a more in-depth explanation of how Caesar and Ghor first met. :)**

 **Memory Three: Quietly into the Night (from Book One: Ch 28)**

The unmistakable scent of camphor flooded Baal's nose, distinctive even through the thick clog of demon and rot that fouled the air in this place, and he came to a halt, sniffing to better locate the source of the smell: Maghda.

"She's here," he growled. Beside him, Saiya tensed up, looking ready for a fight.

"In there, do you think?"

He nodded. "Probably. Listen, Saiya – this is going to be dangerous. No one would think any less of you if you chose to stay out of it … least of all myself."

 _Please,_ he thought, _please tell me that you'll sit this one out. I don't want you to get hurt._

Saiya smiled at him. "Thank you, but _I_ would think less of me. We'll watch each other's backs like we always do … friend."

Understanding that it was pointless trying to convince her, he took a deep breath and said, "Right, then. Shall we?"

All his senses were alert for traps or an ambush as they started down the stairs, but a portcullis locking them in still managed to catch him by surprise. He scowled, angry with himself for missing something so obvious. "I should have expected that. Damn."

Bursts of flame shot up from the floor, illuminating the edges of the room. It reminded Baal of the Pit in the Hunters' Citadel, where demons were kept for the purposes of training on a live subject. That was … not good at all, actually. Why would such a place exist, if not to contain something too heinous for the cultists to let free? He saw no human prisoners.

"Oh, this isn't good," Leah mumbled fearfully. "This isn't good at all."

He was about to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder when a butterfly cloud appeared suddenly in the middle of the room. Maghda emerged from it, her unhinged laughter ringing unpleasantly in Baal's ears.

"Well done, my pets!" she cried. "I didn't think you would survive the journey, but here you are! You seem to have misplaced several of your companions, though. Pity about the _sangoma_ , she was a sweet one."

Baal glanced at Saiya, willing her not to say anything that might ruin the chance of surprise reinforcements later on. If Maghda thought that Ghor had died, so much the better. That meant that her intelligence was faulty at best.

"And the other two, what became of them?" Maghda continued, running a painted nail along her jawline. "The wizard, and that lovely Templar … I could have made good use of him. There's nothing more satisfying than corrupting the pure."

"Enough talk," Baal snapped, already sick of her voice. "You've eluded justice long enough, witch." Thaqib was already loaded to its maximum capacity, and he fired without warning, but the bolts had no effect. Maghda sneered at him.

"Oh, dear. You'll have to do better than that, demon hunter."

In a heartbeat, she had transformed into a swarm of flies that engulfed them, peppering every inch of exposed skin with vicious stings. Baal shut his eyes tightly to protect them, only to open them again at Leah's scream. Maghda was standing behind her, arms wrapped tightly around the girl's slender body. She licked Leah's cheek, smiling obscenely.

"You taste of filth and fear."

Leah struggled violently, but she was not strong enough to escape from the witch. "Let _go_ of me, you freak!"

"Your mother was similarly reluctant, as I recall," Maghda said, "but I won her over in the end."

"My mother?" Leah gasped. "What do you mean?"

Baal ground his teeth together. They could _not_ afford to let their concentration slip, any of them. He shouted, "Don't listen to her! She's just trying to manipulate you!"

Maghda gave a wistful sigh. "The magnificent Adria. Oh, girl – the stories I could tell you! If only you knew … ha! Later, maybe. Say farewell to your friends, my pet. You're never going to see them again." She dematerialized, taking Leah with her.

 _Shit! Gods fucking damn that bitch!_

Saiya's hand closed around his wrist, her eyes wide with dismay. Her voice was low and urgent as she said, "The gate is opening, and I can hear something on the other side."

Baal looked towards the far side of the room, curious to see what monster Maghda was keeping penned up in here. His eyes widened. It was a Butcher demon, and a fairly large one too. It had been quite a while since he had tangled with anything this dangerous, and back then he'd had several other Hunters backing him up. On the other hand, this Butcher had obviously been through some kind of major battle, because its chest had been ripped open and poorly stapled back together.

This was going to be fun.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to fight at his best if he had to watch out for the raven he'd rescued, he transferred it from his shoulder to his hand, and then onto one of the spikes that covered the walls. It tilted its head at him.

"Stay here, little friend," he whispered. "You're a brave fellow, I know, but this one is too much even for you." Then he grinned and said, "Take a good look at your first _real_ demon, Saiya. That's a Butcher, one of the more fearsome of Hell's denizens. With a name like that, I hardly need to describe its activities to you."

The poor girl looked petrified, her eyes huge in her pale face. "It hasn't noticed us yet. We could try to sneak past it."

"Not a chance," he replied. "It'll spot us the instant we move, if it doesn't smell us out first. No, we're going to have to fight."

"We'll never win," she muttered. " _Look_ at that thing, Baal!"

"I have. Have you? The chest, Saiya. There's a weak spot. If we can re-open that wound, we'll weaken it to the point where our attacks might actually do something. I have a few bolus shots left. Hang back for a minute until we see if it'll work."

Switching Thaqib to his left hand, he readied Shams-sahin and strode towards the Butcher. But a hand on his shoulder pulled him back around before he could make it more than two steps, and then Saiya's mouth was colliding with his. He nearly bit through his tongue in shock. She stumbled backwards, cheeks a brilliant shade of crimson, and he could not for the life of him figure out if she'd meant to do that or not.

"For luck," she stammered, staring at the ground.

 _Kiss me again!_ he wanted to say. _I need all the luck I can get._ But there was no time to respond at all, for a deep rumbling sent a shiver up his spine. He turned to see the Butcher's beady eyes fixed on him. It wasn't moving yet, but he wasn't fool enough to think that it didn't see him; it was waiting to see what he would do.

He started strafing to the right, increasing the distance between himself and Saiya. If the thing suddenly charged, he didn't want it anywhere near her. But it twisted its head to look at her anyway, and he lifted his crossbow, aiming for his enemy's neck.

"Alright, fuckhead. Let's see if _this_ whets your appetite!"

The bolus whistled as it flew through the air, and the demon's attention snapped back to him. It raised its sickle at the last moment, cutting the chain in two and sending the bombs flying in opposite directions.

Right towards Saiya.

"Shit!" he growled. Fortunately her reflexes were swift enough that she managed to dodge. He opened fire with Thaqib to cover for her while she got back on her feet, but he wasn't expecting the Butcher to abruptly shift its focus and charge him. He threw himself to one side, landing hard. Before he could recover, it was looming above him, cleaver poised to strike.

 _No time to move …_

The Butcher staggered back, blade arrested mid-swing by an explosion of feathers and fury directly in its face. The raven had come to his rescue – paying him back, he supposed, marveling at its apparent fearlessness. He aimed Thaqib and held down the trigger. This close, there was no way he could miss. Blood spurted from the gash on the Butcher's chest as a few of the rings tore free.

The raven fluttered away, its work done, and Saiya took over. The little monk seemed to be everywhere at once, striking once or twice before dancing away, only to dart in again. Her agility was confusing the demon; it could never be sure where she was going to attack from neck, and it wasn't fast enough to catch her. Baal felt a warm glow of pride.

"Good!" he yelled. "Good, keep it up!"

She seemed to have the battle well under control, so he pulled back a bit, choosing his shots a bit more carefully so that they'd do the maximum amount of damage. They were wearing it down. A bit longer, and victory would be in sight.

And then Saiya hesitated a fraction of a second too long after one of her attacks, and it ran right over her. She dropped to all fours, heaving and gasping. Dazed as she was, she didn't notice the Butcher raising its cleaver.

"Roll!" Baal roared. _"Now!"_

She did as he'd ordered, avoiding death by inches, only to have the floor around her catch fire. She scrambled up as if she'd been burned – which she probably had – and staggered away through a cloud of thick black smoke. Looking down, Baal could see that beneath the arena, a rotating mechanism had been activated which would send up gouts of flame every thirty seconds or so in a different place.

 _As if the odds weren't already stacked enough against us,_ he thought bitterly. _Now we have to avoid being roasted as well. Marvelous! I'm going to have a thing or two to say to Maghda next time I see her, and it's going to be 'fuck you' and 'fuck you a little harder, bitch'._

At least the smoke had the benefit of concealing Saiya's whereabouts from their enemy. It was looking around, tiny eyes narrowed angrily. Baal whistled to draw its attention, and as soon as it swiveled towards him, he loosed the next bolus. It was a perfect shot, the explosive-packed steel balls burying themselves deep in either end of the demon's wound. The blast when they detonated was enough to actually knock the thing on its ass. Baal ran past it, heading for Saiya. She was holding her side where she'd been kicked, but didn't appear to be too badly hurt.

"You okay?" he panted, trying to keep his voice low. She nodded, and he leaned in close to say, "I got him good, the wound's wide open. All we have to do is stick a bomb inside and split the bastard in half. Think you can keep him busy while I work on that?"

"I'll try," she said.

He frowned, mentally running through their options. "Up the back would be best, I think. Get an arm around his neck and stab him at the base of the skull. I'll loan you my knife. That should get his attention, and his body will shield you from the bomb blast. All you'll have to do is let go in time."

She looked impressed. "Alright. Let's do it!"

 _My girl._

Baal pulled his hunting knife out of its sheath on his belt and gave it to her handle-first. She grasped it lightly but firmly, testing the weight and settling on a back-hand grip, which he silently approved of. They parted ways, Baal circling to the left while Saiya took the right side. The Hunter made sure that his footsteps were the louder of the two.

As soon as he was out in the open again, the Butcher attacked him. He sprang into a backflip, feeling the floor shudder as the cleaver bit through it. By the time he'd finished his evasive maneuver, Saiya was climbing the monster's back. She wasted no time in driving the knife home.

The Butcher's bellow reverberated off the walls. But rather than throwing its head _back_ as Baal had anticipated, it pitched forward, throwing Saiya bodily over its shoulder. If she'd let go, she would have been flung in Baal's direction, and he could have caught her without too much difficulty. But instead she clung tenaciously to the knife handle, dangling perilously in front of the Butcher. It snatched her up in a heartbeat, holding her before its face. Baal's heart stopped beating.

 _No! No no NO! Not her!_

"Fresh meat," growled the demon, grabbing one of her arms. Baal held his breath, his stomach churning as he waited for the limb to be torn off, but instead the Butcher's mouth split in a sickening smile, and it pulled slowly and methodically, like a child removing the legs from an insect.

Saiya _screamed_ , a sound he'd never heard her make before. It was more than fear, more than pain, it was the sheer desperation of someone being tortured to death. It was the way his mother must have screamed when she was trapped beneath the burning beam; the same noise that one of the new Hunter recruits had made when she'd been eaten alive on her first mission out, a mission that he'd been in command of. And now, when it was the woman he had come to … _care for,_ it was infinitely worse.

He couldn't stand it. He had to do something to make it stop. Steeling himself, he raised Thaqib, forcing himself to take the extra second to line the shot up properly. It was worth doing, for his aim was true, the bolt putting out one of the Butcher's eyes. It dropped Saiya, reeling. She lay motionless at its feet.

"Over here, you bloated sack of shit!" he yelled. "Come and get me!"

His ploy worked: the demon ignored Saiya and thundered towards him instead. He had intended to lead it on a merry chase and give the monk some time to recover, but that changed quickly when he noticed that the floor-heating mechanism had moved underneath her once again. She was trying to move, but there was something wrong with her arm.

The Butcher was almost upon him, already swinging its cleaver at his head. He ducked forward, rolling between its legs, and dashed back towards his helpless friend. The billowing smoke gave them some cover as he lifted her up with hands thrust under her arms – no time to be gentle _now_ – and started hauling her out of the fire.

An enraged howl announced that their enemy had located them once again. It threw out its sickle, obviously intending to hook them in, but Baal twisted and avoided it by a fraction.

 _Stupid thing can't even aim properly,_ he thought. The next moment, the razor-sharp point of the sickle sank deep into his back.

He hardly felt it at first, just a lot of pressure, and it was suddenly difficult to move. Saiya was staring at his side with a horrified expression on her face. He wanted to reassure her that he was fine, it wasn't a big deal, he'd been stabbed before – but then the Butcher tugged on the chain and dragged the sickle's blade right through him.

 _That_ hurt. That hurt a fucking _ton_. His side was on fire, and he could tell from the sensation of wetness on his leg that he was losing a lot of blood. He tried to cover the wound with his hands and keep at least some of that all-important liquid in his veins where it belonged, but his body just wasn't listening to him anymore. He collapsed on top of Saiya, vaguely aware that she was somehow holding him upright.

 _Fuck, this is so bad,_ he thought hazily. _I'm dying, aren't I? This is it … fuck … Saiya … love you so much, should have kissed you properly when I had the chance … no fucking around this time … don't think about me any more, little love, just go … get out of here, live for me … my Saiya …_

Darkness overtook him. He drifted through it like a ship lost at sea, disembodied, a ghost without place or purpose. It was hard to remember where he had come from or where he was going, or even who he had been. Was there anything besides this void, this lack of existence? Time had no meaning here, and so it might have been aeons or merely a single second before he began to noticed a trail of light fluttering through the blackness all around him. It looked like words, beautiful words in a language he didn't understand. (What is language?) He followed it.

The trail led up (is that a direction now? Up? So before, I was _down_.) and up … and up. It seemed as though he had spent lifetimes walking or crawling or climbing this rope of sunshine (what is the sun? I think I want to see it.) and he began to grow frustrated with his lack of progress. He contemplated giving up for a moment or a year, and sinking back down into the sludge of oblivion waiting below him, but the feeling that something very important and good was awaiting him above kept him going.

Then his side exploded in agony (didn't even know I _had_ a side, now I wish I didn't!) and he wanted more than anything else to turn back, but it was too late now. He was already conscious again, aware of lying prone on a hard surface, of heat and smoke and so much pain, and of someone kneeling beside him and holding his hand. He opened his eyes, but everything was a blur of harsh colors.

"Baal?" said a woman's worried voice. "Can you hear me?"

 _Saiya?_

"I'm here, Baal." Oh, so he'd spoken aloud. "How do you feel?"

 _Shitty. Just about the worst I've ever felt in my life._

His sight was beginning to return to normal, and he got a good look at Saiya's face, streaked with tears. He groaned, realizing he hadn't actually answered her yet. "Like I've been chopped in half and stuck back together. What happened?"

"You died!" she said, looking absolutely broken about it. "You were dead – no heartbeat, you weren't breathing-"

"Really?" he asked. "I seem to have gotten better."

A pretty blush tinged her cheeks pink. "I tried the breathing technique that you used to save Leah, but it didn't work. Then the raven said something, the beginning line of a prayer, and it gave me the idea to recite a mantra. I had to change the wording around a little, but it worked. It healed your wound, I mean, and … well, you literally came back to life!"

 _Forget about Nephalem,_ he thought, astounded and proud and humbled all in one. _She's got to be some kind of goddess._

"The last thing I remember is dragging you out of that fire," he murmured. "Did you kill the Butcher after I, uh, passed out?"

A bright smile warmed her face. "Not quite. I had help. Would you believe me if I told you that the head monk, who I know for certain has already departed this world, appeared before me and cut our enemy down?"

"The same man who taught you to use the bell during a meditation?" he asked. She nodded, and he said, "I'm sorry I missed that. It must have been a sight to see."

"It was," she said reverently.

As his wits came back to him, he recalled why he'd died in the first place, and his gaze went to her shoulder. There was something … _not right_ about it, though he couldn't tell what. "You're injured."

"It's only dislocated," she said, managing an awkward half-shrug.

Baal scowled, hating himself for having put her in through such hardship. "Because I told you to distract the damn thing."

"You are not at fault for my stupidity."

"I feel responsible anyway." He felt ready to sit up, but as he did so, his side tightened in an unfamiliar war. It was not exactly painful, but it certainly felt uncomfortable. He pulled his shirt up to inspect the wound and found a thick, knotted scar. He ran his fingers over it, marveling at the bizarre sensation. He had other scars, but none this … dramatic.

Saiya made a slight choking sound, and he glanced up at her. She looked upset. It occurred to him that this probably wasn't the best spot for them to be just sitting around.

"We should go," he said. "Get the hell out of this gods-forsaken place."

Saiya frowned. "But what about Maghda? And Leah? We're not just going to leave her, are we?"

"No, of course not," he replied, "but neither of us is up to the task of rescuing her right now. We need to eat, sleep, and treat our wounds. Everything else can wait." He held out his arm so that the raven, who was standing nearby observing the proceedings with great interest, could ride on his shoulder.

Saiya started to rise, but fell back again, her face twisted. Baal's chest seized up at the thought that she might have another, more serious injury that she had concealed from him.

"What is it?" Baal demanded. "What's the matter?"

Rather than answer him directly, she twisted her legs to expose the soles of the feet. Baal bit back a curse at the sight of them. He'd never seen such a nasty burn … on living flesh, anyway. It looked as though she'd been standing on hot metal for a lengthy amount of time, and his stomach turned over when he realized that she probably _had,_ since they'd still been in the heart of the fire when he'd fainted.

"Well," he said, a bit shakily, "you're not walking on those. Bloody hell, Saiya, you might have said something. I thought it was just your shoulder."

"I … I didn't know," she stammered. "I couldn't feel it until I got up …"

His chest ached at the expression of fear on her face. Putting his fingers beneath her chin, he raised her face, murmuring, "You're going to be alright. I once saw a healer reattach a man's leg that had been chopped off below the knee. It took a while for the bone to knit again, but when it had, he was none the worse for it."

She smiled weakly. "You're exaggerating. That can't possibly be true."

It was, more or less. _'None the worse'_ was a slight exaggeration, but she didn't need to know that. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Don't," she said. "You've died one too many times already."

He barked out a dry laugh and handed her his crossbows. "Right. Let's get you out of here. Do you mind carrying these?"

"What?" she said blankly. "Baal, I don't understand. I'm not going anywhere."

Wait, she really thought he would abandon her in this hell-pit after everything they'd been through? He couldn't believe it. " _Seriously_ , Saiya? You think I'm just going to leave you here and waltz away to freedom?"

"You can't carry me!" she exclaimed. "You're still badly wounded."

"No I'm not." He got to his feet and bounced up and down, barely managing not to flinch as the movement pulled on his newly-healed scar. Oh well. "Look, we aren't going to argue about this. Either you can let me help you, or I'll knock you out and carry you anyway. I'd much prefer to do it the first way."

"Fine," she sighed, the very image of reluctance, "but if you start to feel faint, or if you're in pain at all, even a little bit, then you're going to put me down and come back for me later. Agreed?"

Baal had no intention of doing so, but she didn't need to know that. He knelt with his back to her, containing a chuckle as the raven sulkily relinquished his perch and relocated to Saiya instead. When she was in position, he got to his feet. Bearing her weight was easier than it should have been.

"You've gotten lighter since the last time I carried you," he remarked.

"Most girls would take that as a compliment, I think," Saiya said.

He started forward, taking it slower than he would have liked. "Well, I wasn't trying to _insult_ you, if that's what you're implying, but I doubt you worry about your figure." A long silence ensued, and he added, "You _don't_ , do you?"

A forlorn sigh came from his back. "I wish sometimes that I was a bit more feminine."

Baffled, he said, "How do you mean?"

"Sasha once told me that I look like a boy. Even _you_ thought that I was male when you first met me."

"I did not," he protested, thinking, _there's no way I was that big of an idiot!_

"Yes, you did!" she said. "Don't you remember? You had me down on the ground with your hand on my throat, and when I finally managed to speak, you let go a little bit and said, 'A woman?' like you were just figuring it out."

"Oh. Yeah." _She just_ had _to remember that, didn't she._ "Well, it _was_ dark at the time, and I had just woken up after being clocked on the head by a vicious monk. If I'd seen you in broad daylight with all my wits about me, I wouldn't have mistaken your gender."

"Well, that's good to know," Saiya murmured. It was hard to tell, but he thought that she sounded pleased. It was ridiculous that she worried about her looks at all; how could she not know that she was gorgeous? As for her body, well … he'd love to show her how _feminine_ it was. He closed his eyes for a moment (not that it mattered, since they were in pitch-dark tunnels, navigating by feeling alone) and imagined running his hands up her long legs until he reached her hips, pressing the dip at the small of her back, cupping her small but perfectly-proportioned breasts. No, there was absolutely nothing wrong with her whatsoever.

"What was it like to die?" Saiya inquired suddenly. The subject matter jarred Baal back to reality – which was good, since this was a damned inconvenient place to get an erection. He was about to respond when she hastily added, "If you don't mind me asking."

"No, it's fine," he said. "I'm just not sure how to answer. I didn't have any sort of revelation, or speak with the spirits of my ancestors, or anything like that. It was pretty anticlimactic, I guess. Just a great black void."

"Maybe it's different for everyone."

Baal hummed in absent-minded agreement. Then her words caught up with him, and he blurted out, "You speak as if you've experienced it yourself."

"Sort of," she replied quietly. "I didn't really die, not like you did, but I was close. I visited the outer edge of heaven and spoke with the head monk, who showed me how to get back again. It was beautiful there."

"When was this?"

"When I was out with Aidel, Jan, and Pip, shortly before we met you coming back from the cathedral. We were out hunting demons and had been overwhelmed. Actually, that's the first time I used the bell."

 _She almost died. And I wasn't there to save her because I'd gone running off on my own._ "You never told me that."

"I didn't think it was important."

At that moment, his side gave a sharp twinge and he stumbled, barely catching himself in time. It was hard to breathe. He gasped out an apology, hoping that he hadn't jostled her too badly.

"Maybe we should rest for a little while," she said.

Baal shook his head stubbornly. "No. I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine."

" _Saiya,_ " he begged,"just … just talk to me, okay? Tell me about your childhood."

The pain was getting worse with every step, and to his regret he couldn't really focus on what she was saying, but the sound of her voice alone was comforting. He tried to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, on and on. Every now and then he paused to catch his breath. If the pauses grew more frequent and lasted longer, Saiya had the grace not to point it out.

But at last he came to the point where he could move no longer. He felt dizzy and weak, his pulse pounding in his ears. Saiya was calling his name.

"Mm," he grunted.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah …"

"Baal, put me down!" she urged, a frantic edge to her tone. "You're bleeding!"

His legs gave out, though he did his best to control his rapid descent by using the wall as a prop. "I'm sorry, Saiya," he whispered. "I overestimated how much strength I had left. Let me rest for a bit, and then we can keep going."

"Don't worry," she said, sounding as if she was trying not to cry. "Take it easy. We're fine here for now. You can put your head in my lap if you want, so you'll be more comfortable."

Baal let his head fall back, pillowed on Saiya's thighs. She stroked his face and ran her fingers through his hair.

"Better?"

It was, much so, though now that the excruciating pain had lessened, he was burningly conscious of how dry his throat and mouth were. All the smoke he'd inhaled while fighting the Butcher couldn't have helped, either. He endured it for as long as he could before murmuring Saiya's name.

She jerked slightly. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry, but … do you think you could find the water flask in my pack? I'm parched."

"I'll try." She fumbled around for a bit before handing him the soft leather flask, thankfully still almost half-full. He eagerly gulped down the cool liquid, but made sure to save enough for Saiya.

"You should have some too," he said, passing it back to her.

The sound of her swallowing reached his ears. "I wonder if the sun has risen yet," she mused.

He consulted his internal clock. "If it hasn't, it will soon."

"Do you think the others made it out?"

"I hope so," he said. "Kormac and Ghor, anyway. With any luck, the mage fell into a pit of spikes."

She tapped him on the cheek. It was probably meant to be a rebuke, but felt more like being pawed by a kitten. He chuckled. It was fun to rile her up. She was so cute when she crossed her arms and got that indignant scowl on her face.

They didn't talk any more after that, and gradually he slipped into a state that was neither waking nor sleeping. Saiya's voice was whispering somewhere: "Stay with me, I love you."

 _If only,_ he thought, _if only … if only this wasn't a dream._


	4. Chapter 4

**So here's Baal's POV on the scene where he returns, wounded, from his massacre of the goatmen and receives a little TLC from Saiya. Enjoy! And I'm still taking requests *hint hint* :D**

 **Memory 4: Like Pouring Brandy on a Wound (from Part I, ch. 24)  
**

Baal limped on through the mist and darkness, a point of light somewhere ahead of him marking the location of the cabin he had spotted earlier, where he was fairly sure he would find his companions. The rain had stopped, but that hardly mattered, since he'd long since been soaked through. With the temperature dropping, he felt like was wrapped in a blanket of ice.

In no mood for company, he was hoping to slip past whoever had been assigned to guard duty and spend the night outside, in the barn if there was one. But that plan was curtailed when a slight figure appeared before him. He didn't need to hear her voice to know who it was, and for the first time ever, honestly wasn't sure whether or not he was glad to see her. Their parting had not been ... amicable.

"Baal!" Saiya exclaimed, stopping in front of him and looking him over. Her eyebrows creased. "You're hurt."

"Not badly," he said. It sounded horribly unconvincing, even to him.

"Come inside," she entreated. "I'll treat your wounds."

 _Great. Just what I wanted to avoid._ "I can do it."

She gave him a hurt look. "What? Why?"

"I don't want the others to see." _Or you. Especially you._

"Don't be ridiculous! Besides, they're asleep."

He crossed his arms, partly to illustrate his point, and partly for warmth. "No."

"Alright," the monk sighed. "There's a lean-to in back of the house. We can go there." Glaring, she added, "At least let _me_ help you, if no one else."

Sensing that this was a fight he wouldn't win, he said, "Fine. Come on, then."

At the cabin door, she left him and slipped inside as quietly as a professional burglar, presumably to fetch her healing supplies. Baal proceeded around the side of the building and found a relatively comfortable spot among the hay bales. Though Saiya returned quickly, he had almost dozed off.

Setting her lantern next to him, she dipped a clean rag in a nearby barrel that had captured the rain, and began to dab at his bloodied face. The cold had numbed his skin enough that it barely stung, and he was able to relax a bit and admire the way that her robe stretched across her chest as she leaned forward. If he was so inclined, he could lift an elbow and brush up against her breast.

 _Cut it out, you pervert! Gods, I need to get laid in the worst way … by Saiya … no, stop it! Don't think about that right now!_

"What else?" she asked, jolting him out of his inappropriate reverie.

"Hm?" he mumbled.

"I know you have other wounds. Take off your shirt."

 _Shit, why did she have to say it like that? I'm in so much trouble._

"Go on," Saiya growled, "or I'll tear it off you."

 _Oh, holy fuck._

Saiya's expression softened. "Please, Baal. I need to see where you've been hurt."

He stifled a moan and stripped off his cloak, vest, and shirt, dropping the whole sodden mess into his lap to hide his erection. At least she hadn't asked him to take his pants off …

"Thanks, Saiya," he murmured, when she was done tending to each and every graze and bruise scattered across his torso. "You didn't have to do all that."

"Oh, I'm not done yet," she warned. "You were limping."

"Just a strained muscle-"

Saiya dropped a hand to his thigh and squeezed – far, _far_ too close to his crotch. He let out an undignified yelp. She showed him the crimson liquid covering her palm.

"Uh huh. A strained muscle."

 _Fuuuck! Why does she have to be so godsdamned persistent! I really don't want to expose myself to her like this; she sure to notice my hard-on._

"I'm not going to take off my pants too."

"Fine." She grabbed his knife, jabbing unnervingly close to his face. "I'll have to enlarge the hole so I can see the wound clearly."

Okay, so she was _not_ going to play fair. Knowing her, she'd make it way bigger than was necessary just to spite him for not cooperating, and there was no way in Hell he was walking around with a massive rip in his pants for the next few days. With a heroic effort, he forced himself to think of the most disgusting thing that came to mind (which happened to be Caesar masturbating) in order to get his wayward dick under control.

"Alright," he grumbled, feeling violated in more ways than one, and dropped his pants. Saiya blushed instantly, which didn't help matters at all. He stared at a spot on the wall of the cabin, gritted his teeth, and resolutely imagined the stupid mage pleasuring himself. Gross. He would have to work _so_ hard later to banish that picture from his mind.

Fortunately, any danger of his erection coming back was taken care of when Saiya unscrewed the cap of his flask and poured a thin stream of brandy directly into his wound. It felt like a flaming poker, and his vision blanked out for a second. He wasn't sure what he might have said, but Saiya looked a bit pale as she wrapped a clean strip of linen around his leg. He nodded tightly. She looked away so that he could dress in peace and gather the shards of his dignity.

"Is there any food around?" he asked. "I haven't eaten all day and I'm starving."

Saiya left, giving him a welcome respite from his growing inability to restrain himself when she was around. It had gotten a lot worse since he'd so foolishly kissed her that night on the docks, and he was beginning to think he would lose his mind. Even Vera, with all her seductive wiles, had not appealed to him quite so much as the fierce but innocent little monk.

She came back within a few minutes, bearing several crayfish that had been roasted in their shells, along with a hunk of bread. He devoured it all in several bites and drained the rest of the brandy for good measure, savoring the burn as it scorched his throat. Sated, he leaned back against the scratchy hay and sighed.

"So?" said Saiya.

"So what?" he shot back.

She scowled at him. "Aren't you going to tell me how you were injured?"

"Not much to tell. I was scouting ahead, trying to figure out the quickest way to reach Leoric's manor, and I ran into a whole group of goatmen. I managed to kill them all, but as you can see, it cost me."

He was expecting follow-up questions on his not-quite-full story, but to his surprise the first words out of her mouth were, "How could you have been so foolhardy? You could have been killed, and we would never have known what happened!" She seemed genuinely upset, which was a little hard to swallow given her own behavior. What right did she have to get angry with him, when she was far worse?

Baal made a split-second decision to call her on it. "Well, forgive me if I'm not too penitent, considering your example earlier today. You can't expect me not to take risks, and then go and do something stupid like attack a giant spider when none of us are prepared to back you up. You're lucky the damn mage was so quick to jump in after you."

"I'm really sorry," she mumbled. "I know I shouldn't have done that. I just … I didn't want you to think I was weak or incapable."

Was that really the only reason she'd done it, to try to impress him? "You _know_ I don't, Saiya."

"If that's true, then why did you try to keep me out of the fight?"

"Because you have a fucking panic attack at the very thought of spiders!" he snapped. "Do you have any idea how I would have felt if you had frozen up and been cut in half by that monstrosity's pincers?" _Broken, bereft, lost … devastated._

"The same way I would have felt if _you_ were lying out in a field somewhere, hacked to death by goatmen," Saiya whispered.

If only that was true – but it couldn't be. She thought of him as a dear friend, had said as much many times, loved him only in that capacity. His death would not split her world in two.

But she looked so unsure, her clear eyes rapidly searching his face as if looking for a sign that only she could understand. He said, "Yeah, I guess we were both pretty idiotic today. I'll forgive you for scaring me shitless if you'll forgive me for doing the same."

She beamed and him and held out her hand. "Deal." He gripped her fingers in his own and, selfishly, wanted to hold on forever.

"You weren't really frightened, were you?" she asked.

"Of course I was," he said. "I don't think you realize how important you are to me, Saiya. I don't have many friends, and I couldn't bear to lose any of them, especially not like that."

 _Understatement of my lifetime, right there._

"I'm sorry," she said again, her expression unaccountably sad. "I don't know what came over me, honestly. I felt so angry and useless, and it just sort of happened. But it won't ever again, I promise."

"Good."

"You're important to me, too, Baal. More than you know."

"Is that so?" he could help asking, longing to hear her say the words that she'd whispered so often in his dreams and fantasies, afraid that she actually would. She was leaning closer, her eyes fixed on his, and for a wild moment he thought that she really intended to kiss him. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, an unconscious and rather pathetic whimper of desire building up in his throat.

They both jumped as Leah's voice shattered the moment. "Saiya? Are you out here?"

"What is it?" Saiya asked, annoyance thick in her tone. Baal felt an echo of it run through his own chest, but he repressed it instinctively. The interruption was probably for the best; no doubt he had misread her intentions, and would have embarrassed himself catastrophically.

"I heard you come inside, and-" Leah cut herself off with a little squeak. "Baal's back!"

"Yes, I am," he said. "You're looking better than when I last saw you."

"What are you two doing out here in the rain?" the girl inquired. Saiya stiffened a bit.

"Just talking," Baal replied. "We were about to come in, actually. It's getting cold out here." He got laboriously to his feet and headed towards the back door of the cabin without waiting to see if Saiya would follow him. It was better not to dwell on what he would never have.


	5. Chapter 5

**So here's my attempt to tell the story of how Caesar and Ghor met for the first time, narrated from the sangoma's point of view. There is a mention of suicide in here, so if that's a trigger for you, please take care! Also a bit of swearing, but nothing bad enough to warrant an M, I think. Enjoy! Also, cookies if you get the title reference! :D**

 **Memory 5: Constant as the Northern Star - Torajan Jungles, Teganze region**

"Excuse me, Ma'am. Would it bother you if I sat here?"

Ghor glanced up from the book she was reading, shielding her eyes against the harsh glare of the southern sun. It was the young man again, the raven-haired _mgeni_. She had felt his eyes on her for a few days now, ever since she had joined the caravan at Magharibi. This was, however, the first time he had directly spoken to her.

"Not at all," she replied, politely shifting to the far end of the bench to allow him more space. He flashed her a quick and charming smile.

"Thank you. All the other seats appear to be taken."

She nodded and returned her gaze to the pages of her book, while watching him in the periphery of her vision, trying to gauge his intentions, and what sort of man he might be. He looked pleasant enough: in his early thirties and well-groomed, on the shorter side for a male, but carrying himself with enough confidence that he didn't appear small. His skin was much fairer than Ghor was accustomed to, and she wondered how he was coping with the extreme heat. The brim of his funny conical hat would protect him from sunburn, but he was certainly overdressed, and it showed in his flushed cheeks and in the sweat that beaded on his forehead.

The young man placed a cloth-wrapped bundle in his lap, opening it to reveal a boxed lunch comprised of a ball of white grain, strips of grilled meat, and fried dumplings. The enticing smell reminded Ghor that she had not eaten since dawn. Her mouth began to water. Sharing meals was common practice in her village, where everyone would take what they wanted from large platters, but she was aware that in other parts of the world, it was seen as poor manners.

The stranger must have had keen observational skills, though, for he abruptly turned to her and held out the box, saying, "Would you like some?"

"What is it?" she asked, curious.

"Rice, gyoza, and chicken," he said. Ghor tilted her head to the side; she knew what chickens were, but the other two words were unfamiliar. Which was 'rice' and which was 'gyoza'? She settled for taking one of the dumplings and popping it whole into her mouth. The texture – crispy without and soft within – was quite appealing, but the flavor was surprisingly bland, especially compared to the spicy foods she was accustomed to.

A quiet chuckle caused her to look over at her new acquaintance. He was offering her a tiny bottle of brown sauce. "You're supposed to put this on it," he said.

She tried it. "Oh. You are correct, this is much better. Did you cook these yourself?"

"Yes," he replied. "I was craving the taste of my homeland."

"And where is that?"

"Xiansai. It's a small nation far to the north-"

I know of it," said Ghor, "though I have never met one of its citizens."

"Then I'd best give a good account of myself, lest you form a negative impression of the whole country."

"That is unlikely," she said with a smile. "You have already generously given me some of your food."

"Well, it seemed the decent thing to do, since you were kind enough to let me sit beside you. Our fellow travelers are … uh, not _unfriendly_ , per se, but they're a bit reserved. So far you're the only one whose been willing to talk to me for more than a couple of seconds."

"Many of my people are wary of foreigners," Ghor explained.

He raised a questioning eyebrow. "But not you?"

"No, not I. All humans are equal in my eyes."

The young man was silent for a long moment. Then he extended a pale, elegant hand. Ghor grasped and shook it, feeling as though something important had passed between them.

"I'm Caesar la Volpes," he said.

"My name is Ghor," she answered.

His grey eyes sparkled. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ghor. May I ask where you're bound?"

"To Khanduras."

"Really?" he exclaimed. "That's a long ways from here."

She nodded solemnly. "Indeed it is. What of you, my friend? Where does the wind take you?"

"Wherever it pleases, I suppose," Caesar said, stretching out his legs. "You might consider me a traveling scholar of sorts, drifting from place to place, staying as long as I please and then moving on again."

"Are you not lonely?"

He looked down at his lap, and she feared for a moment that she had offended him. But he only said, "Sometimes, yes. But I find companionship where I need it, and besides, I'd rather be free to wander than chained down to any one place."

"Only the dead are truly free," Ghor murmured, approximating a well-worn saying among her people. But Caesar turned a sickly shade at her words, and hurriedly stood.

"I've troubled you long enough," he blurted out. "Please forgive me."

An intriguing boy, she thought to herself as he all but fled from her presence. There was a deep pain in him, bitter as the heart of a stone, concealed behind a polished mask. And yet she found something there worth liking. It was a shame that he would probably never speak to her again. Sighing, she returned to her book.

* * *

As she predicted, Caesar avoided her all throughout the following day, as the caravan made its slow way over the twisted jungle roads. But as before, she could sense him watching her, only now there was a new emotion in his eyes, something hungry and desperate. She consulted with Maumbomengi in the early afternoon, but all that her _loa_ had to say was: _once in a lifetime two trees grow as one._ This was hardly useful information, but Ghor had learned long ago not to struggle with interpretations. The true meaning of the spirit's words would become clear when the time was right.

They made camp for the night in a clearing, the wagons drawn into a circle with a central bonfire. The elephants were let loose to graze, while the four men who had been hired as guards patrolled the edges of the meadow, their burly forms almost lost amid the shadows. After eating, Ghor retired to the wagon that she shared with a mother and her two children and fell asleep with her book lying open across her chest.

She was awakened some while later by a hand across her mouth. Startled, she opened her eyes to see Caesar's face above her in the gloom. Alarm caused her muscles to tense.

"Shh," he breathed. "Don't make a sound."

Her right hand had been gradually moving beneath the blanket, inching towards where she kept her blowpipe with its poisonous darts. Finding one, she brought it up in a swift motion and pressed the point to his throat, not quite hard enough to break the skin. He froze for a moment, then pulled back with a wary expression on his face.

"If you try to touch me, I will kill you," Ghor murmured fiercely.

His mouth dropped open. "You thought I … oh gods, no, I would never! I'm so sorry, I just … there's something not right outside."

She frowned. "Not right? What do you mean?"

"There's no sign of the guards. And everything's too quiet. I don't like it."

"Bandit attacks are frequent in this area," Ghor said. "If that is what has happened, then we must protect the others. Can you bring them all to this wagon, while I place some fortifications?"

He nodded and slipped away. Ghor turned to the woman who shared her wagon; she was crouched in a corner, clutching her little ones close.

" _Usiogope yangu,"_ she said. _"Mimi ni sangoma, na mimi nitakulinda. Unaelewa?"_

The woman nodded rapidly, her eyes huge with terror. Ghor picked up her _mojo_ and began to chant the words that would bring the _Kubwa Maiti_ into this world from the other. She fervently hoped that Caesar's quick thinking and apparent courage were accompanied by some skill with a weapon, though she had not observed him carrying one.

He returned before she had finished summoning, which was just as well. The first sight of her pets, especially for those who were not expecting them, could be very upsetting. There were five people with him: two merchants, an old man and his grandson, and girl barely out of her teens.

"That's everyone," Caesar reported. "I couldn't find the caravan driver."

Ghor finished her incantation, feeling the drain on her _mana_ as the undead clawed its way forth into the mortal realm. She directed it with her thoughts: _Guard this dwelling and those within. Allow none to enter._

"That does not bode well," she said, responding to Caesar's remark.

He stiffened. "There's something outside – quite large by the sound of it."

The witch doctor smiled. "It belongs to me, and will not harm any of us."

Caesar caught a glimpse of the behemoth as it trundled past the open door, and his eyes widened, but he nodded determinedly. "Very good. Uh … glad you're on our side. I should let you know, I'm a wizard. Ice magic is my specialty."

"Excellent," said Ghor. "Then I will allow you to take the offensive."

Even as she spoke, there was a wild ululating war cry from the trees, and a spear tore through the canvas wagon-top and stuck quivering in the boards at their feet. Caesar motioned for the people they were protecting to huddle at the back of the wagon.

"I'm going out," he said.

"As will I," said Ghor, picking up her blowpipe.

Heavy thumps and a scream indicated that the _Kuwba Maiti_ had found its first victim. It was on the right-hand side, so she circled around the left as she went out. Four bandits were approaching the wagon with spears drawn. Ghor dropped one soundlessly with a dart to the neck, and had a second on his knees before they realized what was going on.

They turned towards her, only to be ambushed from the other side by Caesar. The wizard had clad himself in icy armor that glittered in the moonlight as he moved. With his pale face, he looked like a ghost, an avenging spirit of the dead. Invisible blades traced the movements of his wand and cut the enemy to ribbons.

The _Kuwba Maiti_ was still fighting on the other side of the wagon, but Ghor could sense through their bond that it was surrounded and would not survive for long. She beckoned to Caesar, and he followed her around. There were more bandits here, but some of them were already injured. It was the work of moments to kill them all, even as the gargantuan fell.

Someone shrieked inside the wagon. Caesar cut a hole in the canvas with a quick slash, and they squeezed through. The caravan driver was holding the teenage girl by her hair, a knife pressed against her throat.

" _Weka silaha yako,"_ he demanded. _"Haraka, au mimi nitakupa kinywa mpya yake!"_

"He wishes for us to disarm ourselves," Ghor murmured. She let her blowpipe fall to the floor in front of her, but kept one dart hidden behind her wrist.

"That's the driver!" Caesar exclaimed. "What the hell is he doing? Doesn't he know that we aren't bandits?"

"I think _he_ is working with the bandits," she said. To the driver, she said, _"Usijidhuru msichana. Tutafanya hivyo, kama wewe kuuliza."_

"What do you mean, he's working with the bandits?" said Caesar. "Why would he want his own caravan to be robbed?"

" _Je anasema na wewe?"_ cried the driver, who was getting more agitated by the second.

" _Nikamwambia wewe ni majambazi,"_ replied Ghor. _"Haamini yangu."_

Caesar grabbed her arm. "What's going on? Tell him to let the girl go."

"I have already done that," Ghor said, turning to give him a stern look. "I believe that we can negotiate our way out of this, but you must put your wand down."

"Not going to happen."

" _Sina majambazi!"_ insisted the driver. _"Wao kutishia mimi!"_

"He says that he is not one of the bandits. He says that they threatened his life."

"Well, that doesn't mean that he has the right to threaten anyone else's! Tell him that we won't kill him as long as he releases the girl."

" _Nyamasa!"_ the driver screamed. _"Nyote tu kuwa na utulivu!"_

He made a wild gesticulation with the knife, and Caesar's hand shot out. In the blink of an eye, the man had frozen solid. The girl tore herself free with a sob and threw herself into Ghor's arms. The _sangoma_ held her close, trying to calm her with soothing pats on the back.

Without warning, Caesar flung himself at them, knocking both women to the floor of the wagon and falling on top of them with a grunt of pain. A red stain was spreading on his arm. Thinking quickly, Ghor jabbed her poisoned dart into the exposed ankle of the man who had crept up on them from behind. His eyes rolled up and he toppled backwards.

"Are you alright?" she asked Caesar as he scrambled off of her, muttering apologies.

"Yeah," he gasped. "It's just a scrape. I'll be fine. Let me unfreeze this fool, and we can decide what to do with him."

With a quick gesture, he undid the spell on the driver, who sank to his knees, trembling violently. Ghor instructed the two merchants to restrain him and place him elsewhere for the night. The man's fate would be best decided in the morning.

"You saved my life," she said to Caesar, "and risked your own in the process. Why would you do such a thing for me?"

"I didn't think about it," he admitted. "I just wanted to prevent him from hurting anyone else."

"It was a noble deed. Come, let me tend to you. I am a _sangoma_ , a witch doctor."

"That explains the giant monster, then," said Caesar, sitting down on the edge of her bunk. He removed his coat and rolled up his sleeve to expose the cut on his arm, just above the elbow. Ghor cleaned it with water and disinfectant oils, before taking out a bone needle and thread.

"Oh, that's not necessary," the wizard said, leaning away from her hand as she reached towards him. "I'll be just fine without stitches."

Ghor sighed. "Do not be stubborn, _rafiki._ An open wound is easily infected in the jungles, and I am sure that you value your arm."

He gave her a curious look. "What did you call me, just now?"

" _Rafiki?"_

"Yes. What does it mean?"

"Friend," she replied, smiling. A startled expression crossed his face.

"You consider me your friend?"

Ghor nodded. "You have given me food, fought by my side, and shed your blood for me. I would call this the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Caesar was silent for a while, and though he flinched frequently as she sewed his wound closed, he made no sound. She wondered if he fully realized what she was offering him. After all, 'friend' was a very loose translation of the word. It was more akin to 'one being of two'. Such a bond, once forged, could not be undone. It was a pledge to guide and protect, to love and nurture, to hold the soul of one's partner as dear as one's own. It was not traditional to grant such privilege to a relative stranger, especially not one who happened to be _mgeni._ And yet already he _was_ dear to her, this strange, pale, aching young man.

"I'm sorry if I frightened you earlier," he said suddenly. "When I came to wake you up, I mean. I didn't even think about how it would look from your perspective."

"The fault was mine," she replied, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I misjudged you."

"No, you reacted how any woman would, and I'm glad. There are men in this world who cannot be trusted."

"And women, too," Ghor said, shrugging. "Evil is not confined to one gender. But you are not such a man, Caesar. I knew it when I first saw you, and I should have remembered it then."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he muttered in a choked voice. "I didn't leave Xiansai by choice, Ghor. I was banished. And if I told you why, you'd very rightly want nothing more to do with me."

"Oh?" she inquired, tilting her head to one side. "Tell me, then, and we shall see."

He stared at her. "You really want to know? Alright, have it your way. I murdered my father."

Ghor remained silent, hoping to draw out the rest of the story the way poison was drawn from a snakebite. Caesar made a raw noise at the back of his throat, evidently mistaking her lack of response for a condemnation.

"Yes, I thought so. Hard to get around, isn't it? It doesn't even matter that he abandoned my mother and she slit her wrists because of it when I was only twelve years old. I loved her so much. She was my whole world. And when she was gone, all I could think about was making him pay. But it doesn't matter, because it turned me into something that I never wanted to be."

"Human," Ghor whispered. "It made you human."

His face twisted. "But I'm not human. I'm a godsdamned half-child. My father was an angel, and I've got his heavenly fucking blood in my veins. I never wanted it there. And … oh gods, I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. I guess it's because you're the first person I've met in a while who genuine likes me. Or at least, you _did_ , I suppose. I've probably gone and ruined that."

"Once in a lifetime, two trees grow as one," she said. Maumbomengi's words had finally become clear to her. This man was her shadow, the dark reflection on the other side of the glass. The same gift that her people prized so highly was his as well, but where it had blessed her life, it has caused him only suffering.

"I … I beg your pardon?" Caesar stammered.

"My apologies, _rafiki_ , it is something that my spirit guide said to me earlier today."

He was looking at her as though she had gone insane and might attack him. "Uh … okay."

"We are more alike than you know," said Ghor. "I, too, am a Nephalem. I am the daughter of Uriel, the Angel of the South Wind. That is why you can trust me with your secrets. I will not betray you, Caesar. I have no right to judge you for what you have done, nor does any human. That right belongs to the angels alone."

He was weeping, tears coursing down his cheeks. He said, "Can I stay with you a little longer? It's selfish, I know, and if you'd rather not have me as a companion, I completely understand. But I-"

"It would be my pleasure," she answered. "You may travel with me as long as you like. But first, you ought to know my real purpose in traveling to Khanduras. Several weeks ago, I received a vision from the Unformed Lands of a star falling from the sky. I seek the town where this strange thing happened. I know not what dangers I may encounter along the way, but my path is laid clear before me, and I shall follow it as long as my feet can carry me."

"Then I'm your man," said Caesar, holding out his hand. "Lead on, _rafiki_."

She clasped it in her own, and his fingers burned like a brand. _Truly_ , she thought, _I was fated to meet this man, this wanderer, this outcast._

Once in a lifetime, two trees grow as one.

* * *

 **I realize that in this piece, Caesar might seem closer in character to how he is now than how he was at the beginning of the story. I did put a lot of thought into it, actually, and my conclusion (for anyone interested) is that spending time with Ghor helped him heal quite a bit from the pain of his exile - thus the 'normal' Caesar that we meet at the beginning of AVO. But the guilt is still there, and begins to emerge as soon as he undergoes some emotional stress, and when he realizes who 'Najmah' really is.**

* Ghor says, "Do not be afraid of me. I am a witch doctor, and I will protect you. Do you understand?)

* The caravan driver says, "Drop your weapons. Hurry, or I'll give her a new mouth!"

* Ghor says, "Do not harm the girl. We will do as you ask."

* The driver then asks, "What is he saying to you?"

*Ghor says, "I told him you are a bandit. He doesn't believe me."

* The driver says, "Shut up! Both of you just be quiet!"

* _Mgeni_ is the umbaru word for 'foreigner'.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, everyone. Here it is: the first love scene from Baal's perspective. WARNING: this is absolutely 100% no-holds-barred M-rated. But because it's only an isolated chapter, I'm not going to bump up the rating of the overall story unless someone complains. If you don't wanna read smut, just skip this one, okay? :)**

 **Other than that, I do want to apologize for how long it took me. I've been dealing with some really rough stuff in my life right now, and it's totally killed my creativity for about two weeks... I finished this a couple days ago and didn't even have time or energy to post it. I hope to get back on track really soon, but in the meantime, I ask for patience, particularly as far as the main story is concerned.**

* * *

Memory 6: Sometimes I Want to Feel Alive

Baal retuned to camp with a spring in his step, despite his weariness and the residual pain of his injuries. Far from his expectations, the visit to his birthplace had actually cleared some of the shadows from his mind. It was the first time he had set foot there since the day he'd run away, but once he'd suffered through the initial pain of reliving those memories, he had discovered a sort of peace among the burnt and deserted houses. He had no idea what had driven the remaining inhabitants away, but in a way, it seemed fitting to find it a ghost town. Nothing left but sand and sorrow.

But then Saiya had come to him, against all odds, and her presence had finally broken through the wall he'd spent years constructing. He had told her everything, and she had listened with tears in her eyes. And rather than causing him pain, she had soothed it.

He could see her ahead of him down, sitting by the fire in only her undergarments, looking at the bottoms of her feet. They had healed without too much scarring, but it seemed they were still very sensitive. She had some marvelous blisters.

"Looks painful," he said.

"I'm sure they'll get less so with time," she said dismissively. Baal gestured for her to let him see, but she only stared at him with one eyebrow raised.

"Give me your feet," he clarified. When she obeyed, he rested her heels on his thigh and started to knead the pad of her toes, making sure not to press too hard. An expression of bliss spread over Saiya's face, and she leaned back against her pack. Baal felt somewhat guilty for never offering to do this before. It was such a simple favor, after all.

Then she moaned, and he stopped at once, thinking that he'd been too rough. "Sorry? I was trying to be gentle."

She turned as red as a beet. "Ah - it's not … I mean, you didn't … it felt good, that's all."

 _Felt good, huh?_ Baal thought dryly. _I could make you feel so much better if I tried._ But he didn't want to embarrass her, so he merely grinned and said, "Oh, is that so? Alright, then."

He continue to rub her feet, paying careful attention to which spots were the most tender. It was a shame that their activities were so innocuous; with the type of noises she was making, anyone would think they were having sex. It was driving him a little crazy, actually.

"S-stop it!" Saiya protested at last, giggling. "You're doing that on purpose!"

 _You have no idea, little love._ "Of course I am."

She yanked back from him, stammering, "Th-thank you, that's a lot better. My feet, I mean. They feel better. So, thanks."

 _I do believe I've got the girl flustered,_ he thought. _Could it be that she wants me after all?_ The idea of stripping her down and taking her right here in the open desert was extremely appealing, and he couldn't quite suppress the hunger in his eyes as he stared at her.

She squirmed. "Um … why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're beautiful," he said.

"I'm not, really," she muttered, with a half-hearted laugh. "But thank you for saying so. It's very nice of you."

Frustrated, he said, "I'm not trying to be nice. I mean it."

"Well, you'd be the first."

Baal bit back a sigh. This was not going at all the way he'd intended. He'd never met a woman who was so resistant to being admired before, and he had to wonder whether it was her, or if he was just doing it wrong. Didn't she like to be told how attractive she was?

"I'm sorry, Baal," Saiya said, sounding as if she truly meant it. "That came out wrong. I guess I'm just a little skeptical whenever anyone compliments me. _I_ don't think of myself as beautiful. And I'm fairly sure most others don't either, unless they want something from me. Sasha once told me that I look like a boy. Well, actually, she said that I 'have a nice body, even if it looked like a boy's'."

"Sasha's full of shit," he growled. "Seriously, Saiya – are you going to accept the opinion of someone who thinks the Idiot Mageis good-looking?"

She scowled at him. "Hey! _I_ think Caesar is good-looking."

Not precisely what he wanted to hear at the moment, but at least it would suit his purposes. "My point exactly. Your taste is clearly flawed. I know a drop-dead gorgeous girl when I see one, and you, my sweet, definitely fit that description."

"Says the guy who mistook me for a male when he first saw me!" Saiya exclaimed, but there was definitely some levity in her tone. Sensing an opening, Baal decided to bite.

"You really hold that against me, don't you," he said. She opened her mouth to reply, but he tackled her and pinned her against her bedroll, stroking a finger down the side of her lovely throat. "Let me put it this way. You drive me mad, Saiya. I dream of you at night. I think of you by day. If I have to wait much longer to have you, I'm going to go insane." He followed up this declaration with several kisses. By the time he was finished, her eyes were wide, and not purely with shock, if the size her pupils was anything to go by.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" she whispered.

He grinned. "Yeah, I am. With your permission, of course."

"Yes!" she squeaked. "I want to … um … I want _you_ , Baal. If you don't care that I'm inexperienced and flat-chested and prone to freezing up and making awkward comments and-"

He shut her up by crushing their mouths together, letting his lips and tongue tell her everything that he could not find adequate words to say: _beautiful, perfect Saiya, my love, my darling, the light of my eyes, the owner of my heart now and always. I want you, I want you, I want you forever. Can't wait any longer …_

His fingers found the buttons of her shirt, but somehow his fine motor skills had gone to shit, and he lacked the patience to struggle with them. Instead, he lifted her into a sitting position and just pulled it off. Her chest covering followed shortly after, baring her breasts to him. He couldn't resist touching them.

"Beautiful."

She whimpered a little, mumbling, "I feel exposed next to you."

 _I have no objections to joining you._ "Well, maybe this will help," he said, taking off his vest and shirt and setting them aside. Saiya's gaze tracked appreciatively down his bare chest, but snagged on the scar at his side. The mood between them suddenly sobered as they both recalled how close he had come to losing his life. So close, in fact, that he'd actually crossed over the line of mortality. He still didn't fully understand what she had done to bring him back.

Taking her hand, he drew it along his ribs until her palm rested on his damaged flesh. The sensation was very limited, he couldn't feel much from the whole area, but he certainly felt it when he leaned down to press her lips against his skin, brushing her nipples across his thigh in the process. He groaned and reached out to grope her, but touched instead a little knob of scar tissue at the hollow of her throat. A memory flashed through his mind, of watching as the healer at the Khasim Outpost dug around in Saiya's throat and removed a little pointed object-

"Baal," she whispered, a soft warning in her tone.

He bit his lip. "An inch higher and you might have died. Fuck, you might have died anyway from the infection."

"Any of us might have died any number of times throughout our lives," she replied. "Don't think about it. Think about us."

Baal didn't know how he'd ever be able to erase the sight of her lying stretched out on the sand, her face flushed with fever and burned by the sun, or if he could forget how heavy she'd been in his arms as he carried her back, praying that every ragged breath she took wouldn't be her last. But he didn't want to ruin their night together, so he stroked her back in wordless agreement.

"May I?" Saiya asked, tapping a finger on his belt. He nodded, and she began to unbuckle it, but the clasp was giving her issues, and when she bumped his cock with her elbow, he decided he couldn't stand it anymore.

"Let me do that," he growled, quickly dispensing with the rest of his clothes. Tossing them aside, he glanced at Saiya, curious what her reaction would be. She was staring, seemingly fixated, at his crotch. It was impossible to tell from her expression whether she was aroused, impressed, or rethinking this whole encounter.

"It won't bite, you know," Baal teased. "Go ahead – touch me, if you want to."

Hesitantly, she reached out and took hold of him. Her fingers were warm, the callused on her palm created an unexpectedly pleasurable friction as she slowly moved her hand up and down. It had been so fucking long since a woman had touched him like this.

"Don't stop _now_ ," he rasped.

Her brows furrowed, and he almost apologized for pressuring her, but then she started to really stroke him, and he lost the capacity for words. She was unpracticed and shy, yes, but the mere fact that it was _Saiya_ touching him like this, when he'd wanted her for so long, excited him more than Marion's smooth sensuality or Vera's total domination ever had. He kept his eyes mostly on her face, loving the look of concentration she wore, and the delight that crept into her eyes whenever he reacted to something that she'd done. But he couldn't stop his gaze from roaming over her body every so often.

She was so beautiful, his Saiya. The glow of her skin in the firelight, the stretch and pull of muscles as she moved, the lines of her body alternately sharp and soft. She was such a fascinating contradiction: graceful, yet awkward, feminine, yet somehow unlike any woman he had ever known. A rush of dizziness made his head spin. He felt almost drunk with longing. His climax was coming on far too fast, and with a great effort, he grabbed her wrist.

"Did I hurt you?" she asked, distress laced through her tone.

"No," he reassured her. "Not at all. It's just … if you'd kept that up any longer, this would have been over too quickly. I can't have that – not with all the things I'm planning to do to you."

Her eyes widened, and her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips. Baal tugged at her shorts, the one piece of clothing that remained on her body. Immediately, Saiya rolled onto her back to take them off, but got stuck with her knees in the air and her ankles bound together. She shot him a mute glare as he chuckled at the sight.

"Sorry," he murmured. "You're just too adorable, Saiya."

Finally, she freed herself from the undergarment's confines, and lay still with her legs slightly spread. Her breathing was very shallow – a sign of nervousness – but there was little he could do about that besides taking his time. He had waited this long to make love to her because he wanted to give her time to change her mind, but sooner or later, she was going to have this experience, and it was far better with someone like him who would take pains over her comfort and pleasure than with a man who cared only about himself. Or worse, someone who would hurt her deliberately …

 _No, can't think about that. Not right now._

He positioned himself on top of her, propped up on his left elbow while his right hand traveled over her hip and in between her thighs. She was wet already, and it wasn't difficult to get a finger in, then two.

"How's that?" he asked.

" _Mm!"_ she squeaked, nodding rapidly.

"I'm trying to loosen you up," Baal said. "If you're too tense, it'll hurt, and that's the last thing I want. Okay, I think that's good enough. Are you ready?" Another nod. "I'll go slow to start with."

Saiya's muscles tightened as he guided himself against her, and he could see anxiety warring with excitement in her eyes. He took a deep breath and pushed into her as carefully as he could. A flood of wet warmth, combined with her sudden wince, told him that her maidenhead had broken. The worst was over.

Still, he restrained himself from moving even an inch, giving her a chance to accommodate to the intrusion. "Alright?" he whispered.

"I think so," Saiya said, though her hands were still clenching her shoulders.

Bracing himself with a palm on either side of her head, he pulled back and slid back in again, setting a slow but consistent pace. Gods, she felt unbelievably good. He wanted desperately to let his lust run wild and fuck her until she screamed.

 _Later. When she's more comfortable with this. I'd never forgive myself if her first time was a negative experience._

He closed his eyes, knowing that if he looked at her right now, he wouldn't be able to control himself. But after only a minute or so, Saiya abruptly grabbed a handful of hair at the nape of his neck and yanked him down for a kiss. Caught off guard, he fumbled for a moment before a wave of passion swept him away. Distantly, as if from a long ways away, he could hear Saiya crying out his name, digging her nails into his skin, her heels against his lower back urging him on. He was lost in a rush of sensations – _soft wet warm so fucking beautiful –_ and barely had the presence of mind to wrench himself from her body before he came.

Saiya was sitting up, watching him with a somewhat dazed expression on her face. She was sweaty and flushed, but there was something missing from her demeanor, a certain relaxed satisfaction that should have been present.

 _Fuck,_ he thought. _I'm a selfish bastard._

"You didn't finish, did you?"

Saiya's cheeks turned even redder. "Um … n-no. Sorry, I don't know why … it felt _fantastic_ , truly, and I was about to, and then I just … didn't."

Baal recalled a conversation with Marion, in the aftermath of the first time they'd had sex. He had failed to bring her to a climax, and had been pretty disgusted with himself, but she'd taken his hand and guided it to her clit. _'It wasn't your fault, honey,'_ she'd said. _'Sometimes a girl's body just doesn't cooperate.'_

"Not to worry, _nuur il-'en_ ," he said. "A lot of women can't come from intercourse alone. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I'll make it up you."

Before she could respond, he was bringing his head down, first nuzzling the thatch of pale hair below her stomach, then deeper in, tasting her. There was a bit of blood remaining, but he didn't mind too much. It was far more interesting to hear her whimpers as he licked her. She must have been close already, because it wasn't long before she arched her back with a raw scream, and went limp again.

Baal grabbed his water flask, rinsed and spat to clear his mouth, and took a few more gulps. He felt sated in a way he'd never fully experienced before: not just physically, but emotionally as well. Looking down at the woman spread out before him, a realization came to him with all the force of a lightning bolt, an understanding that had been hovering on his edge of his consciousness for quite a while. He had thought of it before, but never with such powerful clarity.

 _I love her._


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, all. I haven't dropped Part III, but I'm not especially close to finishing the next chapter either. I'll have it done as soon as possible, I promise. Once again, thanks so much for your patience! Reviews cheer me up, if nothing else ... :) And now, please enjoy the scene in which Saiya first confesses her feelings!**

 **Memory Seven: If You Don't Love Me Now**

There was a heavy weight pressing down on Baal's right shoulder; his arm must have gone numb some time ago. He blinked, stirring slightly, and someone beside him made a soft sound. Turning his head, he saw white-blond hair.

 _Saiya. Asleep. In my bed._

He experienced a moment of flailing panic, unable to reconcile her presence with any memory of how they both might have gotten there. What the fuck had happened last night, and why couldn't he remember it? Then reality set in as he realized they were in the New Tristram infirmary. The blankets on the next bunk over were crumpled into a ball, suggesting that Saiya had originally occupied it.

 _Then why,_ he wondered, _did she move to mine? Why must she continue to torment me with something I can never have? Like that kiss before we fought the Butcher. It seems almost deliberate at this point …_

But right now, all he knew was that he needed to get away from her before he did something incredibly stupid, like groping her in her sleep. Already her warmth and scent were beginning to arouse him, a problem which was not helped in the slightest by the fact that she was fitted rather snugly against his side, though mercifully there was a layer of cloth between them preventing skin-to-skin contact. He slid away from her as carefully as he could, nearly falling on his ass when she moaned and scowled, her fingers twining in the now-empty bedding where he'd lain.

 _So cute when she's asleep …_

He fled the room, pausing only to grab his pack. Outside, he sought the bath hut, ruthlessly splashing himself with the previous day's frigid water until any thoughts of sex were completely gone from his mind. Supporting himself with one hand on either side of the copper washing basin, he stared into his reflection in the dirty mirror. He looked like shit. The most desperate whore in Sanctuary wouldn't agree with sleep with him right now, let alone Saiya.

Well, there wasn't anything he could do about the bruises or bags under his eyes, but at least he could get rid of his stubble. He wet his face and shaved with quick strokes of his hunting knife, then washed his hair for good measure. A full bath would have to wait until he'd had something to eat.

"Oh, Brother, excuse me. I didn't know you were in here."

Baal jumped. Kormac was standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

"It's fine," he said. "I was just leaving." After a slightly awkward pause, he added, "Glad to see you made it back okay."

"Likewise," the Templar replied sincerely. "You were in pretty bad shape when we found you, Brother."

"Yeah …" Baal scrubbed a hand over his face. "I guess I owe the mage thanks for not making me walk back here."

Kormac chuckled. "We all do. By the way, how is Saiya? Is she recovering well?"

He hesitated for a beat too long. "Uh … I think so, yeah. She was sleeping when I left a minute ago. So, what happened after we split up? Did you find Maghda?"

The older man gave him an odd look, but all he said was, "I'm afraid not. We left in rather a hurry, as you can imagine. Caesar went back there this morning and ran into a few stray cultists, but the only thing he learned is that the witch has fled the country and is apparently beyond our grasp."

"With the sword?"

Kormac nodded.

"Fuck," Baal growled, raking his hands through his hair. He wanted to say that they should have left him there to bleed out and gone after the murdering witch, but it was too late now, and besides, that would be profoundly ungrateful of him.

His mood darkening rapidly, he set out towards the tavern, but stopped as he passed by the infirmary window, which was open. Saiya was calling his name, a distinct note of fear in her voice making his stomach clench. Before he could think better of it, he threw open the door and entered. She was sitting up in bed, looking wildly around, but she relaxed instantly at the sight of him.

"Where'd you go?"

"The latrines," he said, feeling unaccountably annoyed with her. "Brother Malachi must be hard up for space, if he's forcing his patients to share a bed."

"I hope you don't mind," she mumbled, turning red. "I was having nightmares again, and … well … I thought that sleeping next to someone would make it better."

There was a sour taste in his mouth. _Someone. Just a person. Didn't have to be_ me. _Anyone could have fucking done, I guess._

"Oh, I see. I'm just a human-shaped dream catcher, then."

An expression of hurt crossed her face, and instantly he felt like a total asshole. No matter how bad a mood he was in, there was never an excuse for taking it out on her.

"I've upset you," Saiya said. "I'm sorry if it was an imposition."

"Don't mind me," Baal answered, shaking his head. "I'm a little out of sorts at the moment."

"Why?" she asked.

He walked over to sit down beside her. "I talked to Kormac. That bitch Maghda got away with the sword pieces."

"What do you mean, 'got away'? She left Leoric's manor house?"

"She's left _Khanduras,_ "he snarled."Vanished without a trace. The mage went back to find her and the place was nearly cleared out, except for a few cultists that got left behind. He interrogated one of them and all he learned was that Maghda was 'beyond our grasp' and that she intended to never return."

"At least we managed to rescue Najmah," the young monk said after a moment. "And we rid the world of a powerful demon. Our mission wasn't totally unsuccessful."

 _I'd define is as pretty fucking unsuccessful,_ he thought darkly. _No Maghda. No sword pieces._

"What are you going to do?"

He glanced sideways at her. She'd taken the news a lot better than he had, absorbing the disappointment with her characteristic blend of optimism and acceptance that the world just worked in shitty ways sometimes.

"I've put some thought into it," he replied, "and I think that if Maghda is likely to be anywhere in Sanctuary, it's Caldeum. That's where the cult of Belial worshippers is based. If my guess is correct, Maghda needs to find a way to repair the sword. She'll be able to do it there."

Saiya nodded, considering his statement. "So you're going to Caldeum?"

"Yes," he said, somewhat surprised to find that his mind was already made up. He tried his best to make it seem as though he'd planned it all along, rather than deciding on the spur of the moment. "The day after tomorrow, I'm taking a boat down the river to Antham, and from there I'll try to catch a caravan headed east. What about you?"

In the moment between his question and her answer, his heart suddenly felt like it was being pulled in two. Half of him wanted nothing more than to hear her say that she would go with him, and the other half thought he would surely die if she did. Her presence was a constant agony, sweet and cruel, both blessing and curse in one.

"I - I don't know, really," Saiya stammered. "I thought I wanted to return to the monastery and take my final vows. But …"

He forgot how to breathe. "Yes?"

Her eyes left his and dropped down to a random point on the quilted bedspread between them. "I didn't expect to fall in love."

He'd known. He'd fucking _known_ this was going to happen, had seen it coming with all the subtlety of a charging bull, had steeled himself many times to take the blow, but somehow the strength of his pain and anger still managed to blindside him. Fucking mage, with his slick good looks and his debonair attitude, waltzing in and stealing away _his_ Saiya. Baal wanted to skin him alive.

But as much as he hated Caesar right now, he loved the woman sitting in front of him even more. So he swallowed his bitter despair, and choked out a vaguely appropriate sentence, the words of which were blurred in his ears.

"What?" Saiya cried, looking horrified. "You _knew_?"

"Well, you weren't exactly subtle about it," he pointed out, unable to keep the poison out of his voice. _Gods_ , he thought, _can't I just shut up already? I don't want to hurt her … it isn't her fault she fell for him rather than me._

To atone for being a jealous prick, he muttered, "I hope that at least he treats you well."

" _What?"_

Oh fuck, she sounded really pissed off; not without reason, he supposed. He shrugged, saying, "What did you expect, Saiya? I hate his guts – I'm hardly going to be happy that my closest friend wants to be with him. I'm sorry, but-"

Unceremoniously, she cut him off. "Wait, wait, back up a minute. Who do you think I'm talking about?"

 _What kind of fucking game is this? Why is she playing dumb?_ "Caesar, of course."

Saiya's face twisted oddly, eyes wide and mouth trembling slightly. Then she said, very deliberately, "You know, Baal, sometimes you really can be a colossal idiot."

He frowned, wondering if he'd made some kind of stupid mistake. Was it someone else? Kormac, maybe? They seemed close, and perhaps she liked older men. Or … gods, had it been Rumford? Or maybe she didn't like men at all?

"You're … not in love with the mage?" he asked, hesitant in case he was somehow making things worse.

"No!" Saiya exclaimed. "I'm not, and I never have been! It's not him, it's you."

Wonderful, now he was hearing things.

"Me?"

Saiya nodded. "Yeah."

He'd heard it again. But that couldn't possibly be correct. Why would she ever have feelings for _him_? He had consistently made her life more difficult since the first day they met. He'd been a jerk, and sometimes worse. She shouldn't love him. _Couldn't_ love him.

" _Me,"_ he repeated.

Her eyebrows drew together, something sharp glittering in her ice-blue eyes. " _Yes,_ Baal. You."

Fuck. He'd wanted her for so long now, but perversely, the emotion that rose in his throat, choking him, was blind panic. "How long?" he rasped, needing to know.

She was silent for a moment, thinking. "I first realized that I was, um, attracted to you when we went north to find the crown. But it wasn't until sometime later that I understood it was actual love, and not just a fleeting infatuation." Blushing adorably, she added, "If I had to pinpoint a moment when it became really clear, it would be when you kissed me that time at the docks."

 _Oh gods … I'm so fucked._

"You remember that, huh?"

Her smile seemed a bit strained as she replied, "Of course I do. I'd hardly forget my first kiss, would I?"

"Shit. Saiya, I … _shit._ " His inarticulate floundering was only getting worse, but he truly couldn't think of anything else to say. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to go off any marry the mage and leave him broken-hearted but knowing that he'd done the right thing by letting her go.

She wasn't supposed to fall for him. He couldn't do right by her, for so many reasons. He was a demon hunter with a death wish, he was an inconsiderate jackass, he was a fucked-up, shattered human being held together by hatred and bitter memories. She was so pure and full of light, but she wouldn't be that way for long if she got involved with him. He would taint her.

And of course, there was Vera.

Saiya looked on the verge of tears, and it suddenly occurred to him that she would most likely perceive his silence as a rejection. Tugging a hand through his hair, he said, "I've really fucked this up. I've behaved no better than Lyndon. But you must believe me when I say that I never meant for you to feel like that about me."

"It's not your fault," she mumbled, shrugging. "It's just … nature, I guess." And then she began to cry for real. Baal, who hadn't thought it possible to feel like any more of a bastard, hated himself utterly and completely.

 _This is my fault. I did this to her. Gods only know what she sees in me …_

Before he could stop himself, he had reached out to take her hand in his, desperate to ease the expression of suffering on her face. "Look at me, _nuur il-'en,_ " he said quietly, biting his lip as the endearment slipped out. The first time he had used it, he'd experienced a secret thrill, knowing that he'd found a way to express what she meant to him without her knowing. Now, the words burned a hole in his chest as he said them.

"I owe you an explanation," he continued, ignoring the ache. "You deserve to know the truth, though it won't be easy for me to say. Saiya, you … it's not as … you're not as alone in this as you think you are."

She gave him a blank look. Clearly, he was going to have to spell it out for her. He took a deep breath.

"It's not like I don't feel anything for you. I _do_ ; how could I _not_? You're an incredible person – gorgeous and funny and kind and understanding, and certainly more than someone like me could ever hope for. And if I were ever to fall in love, it couldn't be anyone but you. I know that."

There. He'd said it. He's finally spilled his fucking guts. Aaand … nothing. No response from the woman who'd managed to turn his whole life upside down.

"Please say something," he muttered. "Don't just sit there."

"I don't understand," Saiya replied, voice small. "If you feel that way, then why-"

"It's for your own good more than anything else," he said. "Relationships with me don't seem to end well." _Isn't that the godsdamned truth …_

Saiya, predictably, did not respond in a positive way. "What do you mean, they don't end well? How many have you had?"

 _Shit, do I_ really _have to talk about this with her?_ He gritted his teeth, saying, "Only three, but they've all been disastrous in one way or another. After the last one, I promised myself that I wouldn't put myself or anyone else through that again. And I especially couldn't do that to _you_ ; you mean far too much to me."

It was the truth, or at least as much of it as he would ever admit to her. Rejina and Marion had both left their mark on him, neither one pleasant to recall, but it was Vera whose face came to mind when he said, _'the last one'._ A vivid recollection of their last encounter flashed through his mind. It had started with passionate, violent fucking and ended with her threatening to kill him – not unheard of, but this time there had been something truly unhinged in her eyes.

He wondered how she would react if she ever found out about Saiya. Actually, he didn't have to wonder, because he recalled a brief flirtation he'd engaged in with a tavern maid in one of the villages that he and Vera had been sent to. She'd been sweet and pretty, and he'd enjoyed the admiration that she'd heaped on him.

The next morning, she'd been discovered on the edge of the forest, the victim of an apparent attack by demons. He'd had no proof that Vera was involved, of course, but he hadn't been able to shake the suspicion that she had.

"That's so unfair!" Saiya growled, bringing him sharply back to the present. "You won't even give me a chance just because you had bad experiences in the past! How can you know that it wouldn't work out between us, if we love each other?"

Baal jerked away from her, biting back a gasp. She said it so effortlessly, as if to her there was no question about it: _'if we love each other'._ But did they, though? They barely knew each other, after all.

"You think you're in love with me," he said, "but you've never felt love before. How do you know that what you're feeling isn't just a mix of attraction and friendship?"

"Because that's what I feel for Caesar!" she snapped. He scowled automatically at her mention of the mage, especially in such a context, but she ignored his sourness and kept going. "I find him attractive, and he's also my friend, and it's not the _same_ , Baal! When I think about you, or see you, or especially when I touch you, I'm excited and scared and happy all at once. I could see you every day for the rest of my life and not get tired of you. I want to experience _everything_ with you; I want to take care of you when you get sick, and cook meals together with you, and watch the sunset, and laugh and cry and fight and apologize and … and …. why can't you understand that?"

 _You're wrong,_ he wanted to say. _I do understand. I know what it feels like, that empty ache in your chest, that longing, that despair. And I don't want you to feel that! I'd give anything to keep you from feeling that …_

For a single, heart-throbbing moment, he allowed himself to imagine taking her in his arms, telling her that he loved her as well, that there was nothing more to worry about. They would kiss, and whisper sweet nothings, and maybe more. His lust and her curiosity, both sated for the time being.

But he knew that wouldn't be the end of it. He would never be able to sleep with her one time and then go his own way, because he _did_ love her, with all his ruined heart. And because he loved her, he knew also that the kindest thing he could do would be to push her away.

"I'm truly sorry," he said, unable to keep the pain out of his voice. "I can't give you what you want, Saiya. It has nothing to do with any deficiency on your part. I think you'd be a wonderful partner. But I'm not, and knowing that, it would just be cruel to pretend otherwise. I hope we can still be friends."

He reached out to cup her cheek, selfishly wanting some amount of contact with her, however tiny and insignificant. But she flinched away from him. He stood up.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I really am."

Then, before he could fuck things up any further, he turned and left the room, heading straight for the Slaughtered Calf. It was cliché, he knew, but at the moment, all he wanted was to forget the broken look on Saiya's face when he'd left her.


End file.
